I Told You I'd Find You
by LaBellaMorte
Summary: Sequel to the Joke's on Me. Five years after escaping the Joker's kidnapping, Georgina "George" Gordon unwittingly finds herself caught in a battle of good vs. evil, stuck between a clown and a bat.
1. Superstar

**Disclaimer:**** I don't know why I did a disclaimer for every chapter of the last story. But then again, there's a lot of things I don't know why I do. So here's one for the whole story: I do not own any characters affiliated with the Batman and DC Comics universe. I do however, own the plot and any original characters.**

**First, I want to thank the following from the last chapter of the Joke's on Me: Gwenlynn, nocoldwater, 123Ekaterina, FoxDemon303, Hushabye, Rayven Storme, and mellathea. I really appreciate all the feedback that everyone has given me, and I'm wicked exited to start this story. Listen to Superstar by Lupe Fiasco. Even though it's a rap song, it fits perfectly with this chapter. Sorry it's kinda short, but it's pretty much just an introduction. So here it is, hope you enjoy!**

* * *

I yawned and stretched my arms in the uncomfortably small seat. My sleepy eyes gazed out the window and saw that the sun was just starting to rise. _I'm back home_, I thought as I slipped on my navy blue Gotham University hoodie over my short sleeve shirt. In case you were wondering, I was on a red-eye flight to Gotham from Rome. My band Legend Trippers, and I recently wrapped up a long European tour, and we were itching to spend the summer at home. "Attention ladies and gentlemen, we will be landing at Gotham International Airport within the next few minutes. At this time, I ask all of you to put on your seatbelts. Thank you", the pilot's voice spoke over the intercom. I adjusted the seatbelt around my waist, and the plane came to a smooth landing.

"God, my ass hurts", I said to Steve, who sat next to me. "But don't you feel accomplished? We're done with our longest tour yet!", he replied, rather loudly. "Of course I feel accomplished. And not so loud, I'm fuckin tired." I stood up, stretched, and retrieved my carry-on bag from the cabinet above the seats. "We're finally home", I said to Evan and Benji, as we emptied out into the aisle. I laughed when I saw that Benji was trapped in between two fat guys. He rolled his eyes. "Yep, great to be home", he joked

When I finally made it off the plane and into the terminal, I saw Mike and rushed over to him, giving him the biggest kiss. Mike is my boyfriend. We've been dating for almost a year, and he's everything I could ever ask for in a guy. We met at a record store in Gotham City and he has spiky brown hair and blue eyes. He's sweet, funny, and my parents love him. He just graduated from college, and he now works for Wayne Enterprises. "Welcome home!", he exclaimed in a sleepy voice. "Sorry I had to make you get up so early", I said. "Come on George, I haven't seen you for four months. This is probably the only time I won't mind getting up at 4:30."

Mike drove me back to my apartment in downtown Gotham City. I left my luggage on my bedroom floor, thinking I'll unpack later. I slumped down on my bed without even turning over the sheets, and passed out.

I'll give you a little insight into my life. And oh, has it changed. After I graduated from high school, I went to college at Gotham University. The guys and I somehow managed to keep our band alive. We played local shows, gathering a small fan base. A guy from a record company just happened to be at one of them, and loved our alternative, hard rock, progressive-y sound. He invited us to play for some of the company big-wigs, and before we knew it, we were singed to the label. I dropped out of college when we went on our first tour, opening for Three Days Grace. My parents hated my decision, but hey, it worked out just fine if you ask me.

And so we recorded our first album. It was fairly well received. We were so busy making music videos, touring, doing interviews, and photo shoots. After that, we released our second album, hence the long tour. Touring is definitely my favorite part of the whole "rock star" life. I've been around the world, meeting different fans. There's really nothing like that rush of being up on stage, looking out over all the people who are having the times of their lives.

And with my new life came a new outlook on it. I already told you how I turned my life around when I was freed from the Joker's captivity. I started to live my life to it's fullest. I don't take it for granted anymore. Looking back, I realized that I was a total loser. I spent most of it being miserable, and I missed out on a lot of experiences. Before those two days that forever changed me, I'd never stopped to smell the roses. Now, I can stand on a beach and contemplate how vast the ocean is. I can walk through a park on a cool autumn day, feeling the sun on my back, while the leaves crunch beneath my feet. I've also learned to appreciate the people closest to me. Family get-togethers have been so much more pleasant, despite the heated political debates and the occasional drunk uncle, but that's where the real fun is. And I've never had as much fun with my friends. I've become a better listener, and I'm so much better at giving them advice. I've made a lot of friends too, because I learned to be more open to kindness, instead of shutting people out like I used to do. I also cut it out with the sarcastic and bitchy attitude. Well actually, a lot of it is still there. So all in all, I can only thank the Joker. Someone who doesn't know how much I've changed could argue that I have every right in the world to despise him, but I really can't. Because without him and his strange, indirect way of changing my life, I'd probably still be a sour and unhappy person working a mediocre office job. No offense to Peter Gibbons, though.

* * *

The Next Day

I threw on a loose-fitting, thin white tank top, dark blue flare jeans, a light grey short sleeve cardigan, and black flip flops. I examined my appearance in the bedroom mirror. Since we last left off, my hair has been lightened to a nice sunflower blonde, while still keeping it's past-the-shoulder length. I let it air dry, which gave it some loose waves, and a few streaks of deep purple peeked out from the bottom layers. An homage to the Joker? I don't know, you tell me. And I won't bore you with the stories behind the numerous tattoos I've permanently inked on my skin, but I will tell you that I have a small joker on the inside of my left wrist. I got the inspiration from a card when I played a game of poker with my friends. Looking at it brings back those memories which in turn, helps me to write songs.

I looked out the window. The sun was shining on this beautiful end-of-June day in Gotham City. I needed some flowers for my apartment and some fresh fruits and vegetables. So I grabbed my purse and walked down the street to this little farmer's stand that's set up every summer. The hot sun beat down on my back and I could feel it tanning my skin. It was around noon on a Saturday, so the streets were packed with people. Tourists flocking in for the weekend, businessmen chatting on their Blackberrys, fashionistas shopping, homeless people panhandling on the sidewalks.

* * *

I left the florist with a bouquet of daisies, thyme, baby's breath, and orchids. It was when I was examining a tomato at the farmer's stand that I looked up. From a distance, a pair of eyes belonging to a man were fixed on me. I dropped that tomato when I thought I saw two scars creeping up his cheeks. But I regained my composure. Nah, it can't be. My imagination went a little crazy.

I came home a while later, and put those flowers in a vase. Then, I poured myself a glass of water, kicked off my shoes, and flipped on the T.V. I changed the channel to a news station to get the day's headlines. And boy, did I get them. The reporter spoke with a sense of urgency and the words flashed across the screen.

Breaking News: "The Joker" Escapes From Arkham Asylum.

Gotham Residents on High Alert as Authorities Continue Their Search.

The glass of water slipped away from my hand and crashed onto the floor, but I didn't notice. My eyes went wide and my shaky hand covered my mouth which hung open, and I slowly sat down on the couch. A million questions ran through my mind. Where is he? How did he escape. And was that him that I saw today? Oh please, I hope he doesn't find me.

_If you are what you say you are_

_A superstar_

_Then have no fear..._


	2. The Break In

**Thank you to Gwenlynn, nocoldwater, FoxDemon303, Hushabye, 123Ekaterina, lovelyxlady389, SuperSally13, DarkHero87, and gekzoalshethoort for your wonderful feedback! And I feel I must say this for some reason, I went to my school's Halloween dance dressed as the Joker nurse. :D Lolz, enjoy the second chapter!!**

* * *

A Few Weeks Later

The Joker hasn't been found yet. The news reports have died down, and the talk on the streets of Gotham City has decreased. I've speculated that the police have probably given up their search. But I'm still here, safe in my apartment. The first week of his escape form Arkham was hell for me. I couldn't sleep and I constantly looked over my shoulder, fearing that every person who passed me was him. But with help from my friends and family and a strong state of mind, I realized that I can't live my life in fear. I can't hole myself up inside, always thinking that the Joker will find me. If that was the case, I'd probably never see the outside world. Like the cops are ever gonna catch him. I'm not entirely ruling out the possibility of him finding me, though. I have a fairly high profile. But it'll be hard. My phone numbers and address are unlisted. I legally changed my last name to Houghton, although I still use the name Gordon. Houghton just appears on legal and formal documents. So good luck Joker.

Pushing that thought aside, I threw on a nice black tank top, jeans, and flip flops. I was going to meet by best friend Karen at our favorite Mexican restaurant, Cancun's, to tell her something. Something really important. I felt like I could tell her, she doesn't judge me. We've been best friends ever since we met our freshmen year of college, and we've been inseparable ever since.

I arrived at Cancun's, sat down at a booth, ordered a beer, and waited for Karen. She showed up a few minutes later and gracefully took a seat across from me, and we ordered our food. "You've been making me nervous all day. What's up?," she said, anxiously running a hand through her dark brown bob.

I took a big gulp of my beer for courage. "Well, you know how the Joker escaped and no one found him?," I began.

"Duh, who doesn't?," Karen said, trying to make light of it.

"Is it wrong not to be scared?," I asked. She looked at me with confusion.

"Well, it's been over three weeks and he hasn't found you. Right?"

I sighed. "Yeah."

"What are you getting at, George?," Karen asked.

"This might sound crazy, but the day he escaped, I could have sworn I saw him downtown. He wasn't wearing any make up, Karen, and normal clothes. But I saw the scars. I think he was staring at me." I shoved a mouthful chimichanga in my mouth.

"What? That's so fucked up," said a shocked Karen.

I rolled my eyes. "Tell me about it," I said.

"Honestly George, it's nearly impossible for him to find you," she said.

"I've learned that nothing's ever impossible with him. But that's not why I'm worried."

Karen gave me another confused look. "What are you talking about?"

I sighed again. "Karen, I've never told anyone this. Not even the guys or my shrink five years ago. But, the Joker has an undeniable charm. Don't get me wrong, he's absolutely repulsive but whenever he spoke, he always drew me in. I don't know what it was, but he had this really weird appeal and I hate admitting it. I always hated myself for it, so I guess I'm just worried that I might fall for him."

"Wow. I don't really know what to say," Karen replied.

"Yeah, I wouldn't either."

"What are you gonna do about Mike?," Karen asked.

I looked up from the food that I stared at. "I'm sure as hell not gonna tell him about this. Fuck no. The last thing I want to do is freak him out."

* * *

Benji woke up. He looked around at his surroundings, and saw that he was in a dark room, lit only by a dim lightbulb hanging over his head. He tried to move, but his arms and legs were tied to the chair he sat on. He tried to force them form the rope that bound him, but it was tied so tight to prevent him from doing so. "Aw, shit!," he yelled, panting heavily.

A laugh echoed in the distance, and crept closer. "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Oh he he ah ha. Ha ooh he he ha ah hahhh." Benji searched around the crudely lit room for the source of the voice.

"Who the fuck is this! Show yourself!," he yelled. No one came around. "All right guys, this better not be another prank!," Benji said, thinking of George, Evan, and Steve.

The voice then stepped into the light. "Prank, what prank?," it said.

Benji stared, mouth agape. "You!," he said.

"Uh yeah, it's me. Who were you expecting? Chuck Norris?," the Joker said, laughing at his own joke. He stopped when he realized that Benji wasn't laughing along. " That was a joke, Benji. You're supposed to laugh. Who doesn't love a good Chuck Norris joke?," the Joker said.

"What do you want from me?," Benji asked.

"Indeed, you probably _are _wondering why I brought you here."

Benji suddenly recalled two men dressed in black and wearing clown masks on their faces breaking into his apartment, and knocking him out cold with his prized Babe Ruth baseball bat. He felt his head pounding. "Tell me!," he shouted, growing angrier and more anxious.

The Joker whipped out a knife and propped it inside the corner of Benji's mouth. "If I were you, I wouldn't shout so much. You're gonna lose your voice. And that would be a tragedy considering your career and all," the Joker said. Benji, who played guitar in Legend Trippers, also sang back-up vocals. "And I must say, I really do love your band. But back to business. You know the location of a certain someone, and you're gonna tell me the information," said the Joker.

He removed the blade from Benji's mouth, allowing him to speak. Benji viciously shook his head back and fourth. "Oh no. There's no way I'm telling you where George is!," he exclaimed.

The Joker circled around him like a hawk. "I don't think you get it, Benjamin. If ya don't tell me, I'm gonna kill ya," the Joker said, laughing.

"So kill me. You don't know the hell her family went through those two days. And I can't even begin to put myself in her shoes. I know all the shit you did to her. Like I'm gonna sit here and make her relive that," Benji said.

The Joker rolled his eyes. "How cute of you to stick up for your friend. But don't you know I'm gonna find her with or without your help? I'm the Joker, you know me!," he exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air.

"And to save myself some time, I'm gonna force that information out of ya." The Joker untied the rope around Benji's ankles. He walked around behind him, and pulled the rope tight around his neck. Benji kicked and tried to break free, but the Joker pulled the rope even tighter. Benji's breath grew shorter and shorter, and he gagged like hell. The skin on his neck burned from the friction. He couldn't die. He didn't want to. Not now, he was only twenty-two years old.

"Okay, I'll tell you," he managed to say. It was barely audible in between the gags.

The Joker let the rope fall from his hands. Benji coughed and gasped for air. "I knew ya'd come around," said the Joker.

Benji regained control of his breathing and sighed heavily. He knew he would regret this. "She lives in the city. Downtown on Pearl St. In the big, old brownstone apartment complex. She's on the sixth floor, apartment six E," he said. The Joker grinned smugly and cut the rope around Benji's wrists.

"You're free to go, my good man," he said, leaving the dark room.

Benji hung his head in defeat. He already regretted what he just said. And he was afraid of what George would do if she found out. She was his friend and bandmate, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her in any way. "Shit, Benji. You really screwed this one up," he muttered to himself.

* * *

I fell asleep that late that night, around midnight. The weather was mild with a nice summer breeze, so I left my bedroom window open. Stupid decision. I woke up in the middle of the night to someone quietly walking around in my room. I glanced over to the window. A hole was cut in the screen. Oh shit. Laying perfectly still, my eyes shifted over to the intruder. A robber perhaps? He wasn't looking at me, so my hand reached over the drawer of my night stand. I felt for the small can of pepper spray I keep in there. When I found it, I left my bed and slowly made my way over to him. He turned around, and I sprayed the pepper spray in his eyes. He fell to the ground and screamed in pain, his hands covering his eyes. I flipped a light switch on and got a good look at him. I gasped like fuck.

"Jack?," I said.


	3. Rose Red

**From the last chapter, I wanna thank DarkHero87, 123Ekaterina, FoxDemon303, rikkukirst, nocoldwater, Hushabye, Gwenlynn, mischieflover, ryuzaki25, ThornInMySpine, and dreykar. :D**

* * *

I stood motionless, seeming to be in a trace, while the man rolled around on the floor, yelling out in pain. Finally, I snapped out of it. Yes, it was indeed Jack. He looked almost the same as he did five years ago, but the green in his hair was gone, replaced with his natural light brown. He still had those chiseled features, but they matured a few years. The scars were still there, and they were more pronounced because he wore no make up to cover them.

The can of pepper spray dropped from my hand when Jack stood up from the floor. I should have picked up the nearest blunt to chuck at him, but I didn't. I was kind of paralyzed. "Oh my God," he moaned, rubbing his eyes.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!," I exclaimed.

"That was very painful, George," he said. I saw his eyes, they were red and watering.

I didn't know whether to be scared or angry. "Why did you break into my apartment in the middle of the night?"

"To come see you, of course!," Jack said, attempting to make the conversation light.

I placed my hands on my hips and tapped a foot. "Do you honestly think I'm that stupid?" Sitting on a table next to me, I noticed a small antique jewelry box I bought a while ago. The thing was intricately carved and was made out of solid brass. It was heavy, so I picked it up. "Don't you try to play games with me." I lifted up my arm, ready to hurl it at him. "You're on the FBI's most wanted list! Get the hell out of here!" In that moment, I felt like a psycho ex-wife.

Jack put his arms up, as if guarding his head. "The Joker is wanted, not me! I'm Jack!"

"You still escaped, and you're gonna be fucked when the cops get here," I said, rushing to the night stand where my cell, phone sat. I flipped it open, ready to dial 911, but Jack grabbed my shoulders and turned me around to face him.

"Just listen to me," he said in a soft voice. "I just need to talk to you. I know sneaking in here in the middle of the night is really sketchy, but just hear me out." He took the phone from my hand and snapped it closed, then grabbed the jewelry box and placed it on the night stand.

I glared at him with angry eyes. "You have ten seconds," I said. "Or I kick you out myself."

"Arkham's changed me, George. A lot. The Joker isn't here anymore. It's just me. Jack Napier."

I shrugged out of his grip and scoffed. "You expect me to believe that?" I laughed a little bit. "You still think of me as the same naive teenage girl, don't you?"

"Please, you need to listen to me!," he pleaded

"I don't _need _to do anything. Now get the fuck out of here!," I yelled, not particularly caring if I woke my neighbors. I strolled over to the front door and Jack followed me.

"Come on, it's been five years. I'm a changed man," he pleaded again.

I calmed myself down. "Just leave," I said, practically a whisper.

Jack let out a sigh and opened the door. "Fine, but this isn't over. I'll be back," he angrily said, then slammed the door behind him.

I jumped and stood there, surprised. "Uh, what just happened?," I asked myself.

* * *

Indeed, it wasn't over. Jack stuck to his word and came back. Multiple times, actually. Here's what went down:

Day one: I went out for a walk and sure enough, I ran into Jack.

"Hey," he said, as if talking to a friend.

I didn't say anything. Instead, I walked right past him.

"George," he called after me. "Can you just take the time to visit me at my house?"

"Oh yeah right."

"Please!"

"Absolutely not." I quickened my pace, leaving Jack in the dust.

Day two: I was cleaning my apartment when someone knocked on my door. I looked through the peephole and saw Jack on the other side. "Oh for God's sake," I muttered.

I opened the door and placed my hands on my hips. "What?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off before any words came out.

"No," I stated, and slammed the door in his face, making sure to lock it.

Day three: On that morning I was in my bathroom shaving my legs, when I heard someone knocking. "Damn it," I said, wiping off the shaving cream and slipping on a bathrobe.

I glanced out the peephole, and much to my chagrin, I saw Jack.

"Well hello. Did I catch you at a bad time?," he said with raised eyebrows, noting my clothes, or lack thereof.

I pulled the robe tight around my chest and crossed my arms. "Actually, you did. And for the record, anytime you come around here is a bad time." I began to close the door, but Jack slapped a hand across it.

"Seriously, just let me talk to you. I hate bothering you all the time, but I'll keep coming here until you agree with my previous statement."

That kind of shocked me. Was it a threat? Well, I took a moment to think of an answer. "If I agree, will you stop showing up at my door?"

He gave off a sly smile. "Well, I can't guarantee that, but it can't hurt your chances."

Sighing, I said "Fine, I'll stop by tomorrow."

"I can't wait to see you," he said with a smile. It was kind of creepy.

He gave me his address and left. "What am I getting myself into?," I asked myself.

* * *

The next day, I hopped in my Escalade (that's right, a nice Escalade. I've always wanted one, and I finally had enough money to buy one), and drove to the address scribbled down on a Post-It. And it took me forever to find the stupid place, because it was located in a densely populated neighborhood of huge, old houses in a tree-lined area outside the city.

I turned onto the long, winding driveway of what I was sure was 16 Palmer Lane, and stared at the massive, imposing mansion standing defiantly before me. "Holy shit," I said. The place looked Victorian and neglected for years, due to the overgrowth of weeds and vines. The facade of the house was a brown-colored exterior, with intricate carvings on the dark wooden trim. The stained glass windows were faded, but not broken.

I sat in my car, thinking I could just back out and drive away. But Jack would probably come back to harass me. Might as well get this over with. And if anything happens, I have that can of pepper spray with me.

Sighing, I stepped outside and looked around. The house was situated on a hill that looked out over the city across the bay. The sky was covered in a thick layer of clouds, and a light mist came down. The temperature was chilly, very strange for August, so I pulled the zipper on my tight-fitting sweatshirt up. I ascended the stairs, and came face to face with the huge wooden door. I picked up the brass knocker and tapped it against the door. The door creaked open and I jumped back in surprise. _What a horror movie cliche,_ I thought.

I peaked my head inside because no one was around. "Hello?," I called out. No one answered, so I carefully stepped inside, closing the door behind me quietly, not wanting to disturb the silence. "Hello?," I asked again. Nope, no one.

I stared in wonder at the interior of the house. The foyer was large and open, but the stained glass windows didn't bring in any light. The air smelled musty, as if no one had placed a foot inside for years. I ran a hand across the top of a closed piano, and the dust collected on my palm. A grand main staircase with an oriental carpet running up and down caught my attention. Just looking at it, I half-expected to see Rose coming down, and Jack Dawson waiting at the foot of the stairs. The whole room belonged to another era. I thought I had the wrong house.

At least I thought so, until I turned around, admiring my surroundings, when a face came close to mine. "Jack! You scared the shit out of me," I said.

"I seem to have that effect on you, don't I," he said, smirking. "Come on, I'll show you around."

I warily tagged along. I glanced over at the front door. I could have ran, but I didn't.

* * *

Jack brought me out to the courtyard. The dark and cloudy sky added to the creepy atmosphere of the long-dead gardens and dried-up fountains, The angelic statues on the fountains seemed to be staring at us.

"So what do you think of my home?," Jack asked.

"It reminds me of the house in Rose Red," I said. "You didn't buy it, did you?"

He laughed at my question. "When one has a reputation like mine, one doesn't have to buy much."

I rolled my eyes. "I should have known. So what did you want to talk about that was _so _important?"

Jack took my hand. "George, those five years spent in Arkham changed me. I know it sounds crazy, but the Joker is long gone."

I stared at him. Then I started laughing. "You think a few years in a psychiatric hospital rid you of your Joker persona? Should I feel insulted? Because I think you're calling me stupid." I yanked my hand away from his.

"It's true though! I thought you would be the only person who believed me. Don't you remember that moment we had?"

I recalled that time spent locked in the back room of the nightclub, with the photograph and the kiss. "Out of all people, why would _I _believe you? You kidnaped me!"

Jack's voice grew quieter and his eyes pleaded with mine. "George, I need you." Then, his lips fell on mine, and his arms wrapped around my back. He ran his tongue across my bottom lip, and I let it in. My hands grabbed the sides of his face, bringing him closer to me, breathing in his scent, sinfully enjoying every second.

Oh God, what was I doing? I finally realized it and I pulled away, abruptly ending the kiss. "Jack, what are you doing?"

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me." He wrapped his arms around my waist. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for you."

I pushed myself away from him. "I can't do this. I have a boyfriend. There's no way I'm getting involved in this." I made a run for the exit.

"George, wait!," Jack called after me.

"No! You're still the Joker and you'll always be the Joker!"

* * *

"Fine, you want the Joker, then you can have him," he said, breaking out into a fit of laughter. "Toots."


	4. The Return of the Joker

**Sorry I haven't updated in a while, I've been really busy and I've had a serious case of writer's block! Ugh, I hate writer's block! Anyways, thank you to** **mischieflover, 123Ekaterina, DarkHero87, nocoldwater, Muggleborn Princesa, rikkukirst, FoxDemon303, Greasepaint, ryuzaki25, ThornInMySpine, Hushabye, PurgatoryNymphe, TheSodaVampire, and lovelyxlady389 for your awsome reviews and alerts! **

**The song I included in this chapter is Burn by The Cure, it fits with the first scene. Anyways, enjoy!**

* * *

He leaned into the old vanity mirror, his hands clutching the ends of either side. Outside, the thunder shook the walls of the mansion, the lightening lit up the room, and the pouring rain pounded against the windows. Small candles rested on the vanity and cast an eerie glow over his face. "Jackie boy, it's time we out a smile on your face!," he said to himself.

A small picture of George was stuck in the crack between the mirror and the wood trimming. He picked it up, kissed it, and placed it back in it's original position. He turned to a table in the room that held a stereo. Resting on top of one of the speakers was a CD case, a Legend Trippers CD. He took the CD out of it's case and popped it in the CD player. Thundering drums, raging guitars, pounding bass, and George's voice blasted through the speakers.

He walked over to the vanity and pulled out his make up.

"_Just paint your face," the shadows smile/Slipping me away from you._

From a tube, he squeezed a generous amount of creamy white face paint onto his hands and smeared it all over his face. Then, he ran a thick, carbon black eyeliner pencil all around his eyes. Next, blood-red lipstick was hastily drawn over his lips and covered his scars. And for the finishing touches, he used enough green-colored hair spray to cover and saturate his hair.

When he was finished, he stood back to examine his work. "You're back in business!," the Joker exclaimed, licking his lips.

_Every night I burn/Waiting for my only friend/Every night I burn/Waiting for the world to end._

* * *

That night, when it finally stopped raining, I opened my window to smell the fresh post-rain air. And then I heard an intensely loud BOOM! About a block away, a bright orange fireball ripped through a high-rise apartment building. It was so loud, I stumbled backwards in surprise. "What the-," I muttered to myself, my ears ringing.

But I didn't stay long. I slipped on a pair of shoes and ran out of my apartment building, racing down the street to see what happened, as did everyone else. Everything around me was chaotic. People screamed and either ran to or from the building. Some even sobbed. I overheard one hysterical woman say that her daughter was inside, in the area where the bomb hit. And police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances rushed to the scene, blaring their deafening sirens.

A large group of people gathered at a safe distance to watch the building, while the firefighters pointed their high-powered hose up to the flames.

"What's going on?," I asked a middle aged man who stood next to me in the crowd.

"I don't know. I was outside and the place just blew up!," he replied.

And then, confetti rained down from the top of the building. At least I thought it was confetti. I stood, transfixed, as it came closer to me. Now, they looked like cards of some sort. So I shook myself out of my thoughts and picked one up from the ground. The side facing up was blank, so I turned it over. My eyes went wide. It was a joker playing card. All of them were.

"Oh my God, he's back!," the man next to me shouted. When everyone else noticed the cards, the pandemonium doubled. They knew the Joker was back for a second round of madness. And I knew this was probably all my fault.

* * *

The vice lords of crime and corruption sat around a table in a harshly-lit room, discussing their plans for Gotham City. Among them was Gambol, the Chechen, Lau, and numerous unimportant no-names. At the end of the table sat Salvatore Maroni. He was the head honcho, the leader of the pack, the number one enemy of the police. Well, at least he was up until the Joker made his great escape. But during the time when the Clown Prince of Crime was locked up, Maroni was the real threat to Gotham's citizens. He loved all the attention he received. Seeing his face on the news and being so notorious made him light up. But the Joker was back on the streets like a mad dog, so Maroni had to do something about that.

He stood up and slowly paced around the room. "Gentlemen, we have a little problem," he began. "As you all know, that Joker whack-job is out and about. He just blew up a God-damn building!"

"So what are we supposed to do about him?," the Chechen asked in his thick Russian accent. "We could not stop him before, so what do we do now?"

Lau, a Chinese mafia accountant, spoke next. "I'm willing to bet that he isn't as strong as he used to be. All those years spent in the asylum and the fact that his henchmen are still locked up probably did a number on him."

Maroni gripped the back of his chair and leaned into it. "Still, we can't underestimate him."

"Anyone got a plan?," Gambol asked, his patience running low.

Maroni smirked at him. "Glad you asked, smart-ass. I do have a plan. And it involves the little Batman."

The men eagerly awaited his plot. "Here's how I see it. We take down the Batman and that'll get rid of the Joker." Maroni's proposal was met with blank stares. "Hasn't anyone else noticed his strange fascination with the vigilante?" He paused for dramatic effect. "And then there's the girl."

Lau raised his eyebrows. "The girl?"

"That girl he snatched five years ago. Georgina Gordon, the commissioner's daughter. He kept her for a few days until the cops got her. Then he was thrown in Arkham. I believe that he has a little crush on her, if you will, and he escaped to find her."

"What do we do about her?," the Chechen asked.

"Think of it this way," Maroni began. "The Joker would be nothing if he didn't have Batman or that girl to play with, now would he?"

The men laughed. "So your plan is to kill Batman? I understand getting rid of the girl, but Batman? He's impossible!," said Lau.

Maroni stayed cool despite his foolishness in the eyes of his men. "Batman is a human being, like all of us. Which means that he has a breaking point. He isn't undefeatable. Now, I won't lie to you, it may take a while. But we _will_ be rid of both the Batman and the Joker."

* * *

That night, I holed myself up in my apartment, pacing around in the dark, repeating "Oh God, oh my God" over and over. This is all my fault, I _know_ I caused this, I brought the Joker back. Yet again, me acting like a bitch fucked things up. Damn it George, if you were a little bit nicer, maybe this wouldn't have happened.

I heard a knock on the front door, then someone came inside. "George!," a frantic Evan said as he raced into the living room. "Oh my God, you didn't pick up your phone! I was worried."

"Worried that the Joker might find me?"

Evan looked down and hesitated to speak. "Um, about that. I think you'll want to have a seat."

We sat down on my couch. "What's going on? Is everything okay?," I asked, growing nervous. I hate it when people do that to me.

"Benji told the Joker where you live. He kidnaped him and forced the information out of him."

What Evan said didn't really process through my mind. I was confused. I didn't know what went through my head. Bu what does go through someone's head when they're faced with the ultimate betrayal? "Huh?," was all I managed to say.

"Benji didn't know how it happened. He just woke up somewhere after he was knocked out in his apartment. The Joker almost strangled him to death. The only way he could survive was to tell him what he wanted to know. He's an absolute wreck right now."

"Why didn't he tell me?"

"He didn't want you to know."

"Oh my God," I said under shaky breath. "So he was gonna keep this from me?" I started to sob. "How could he do that?"

Evan pulled me into a hug. "It'll be alright, George," he said.

How could it be alright? One of my best friends betrayed me and the Joker is on the loose, killing people. This can't go on forever, right?And yet I've learned that in Gotham City, the darkness can stretch for a very long time.


	5. I Want You So Hard

**Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Thank you to PurgatoryNymphe, DarkHero87, 123Ekaterina, mischieflover, ryuzaki25, Hushabye, nocoldwater, Greasepaint, Forts, and zenrockstar.**

**The song I used in this chapter is I Want You So Hard (Boy's Bad News) by Eagles of Death Metal. And for those of you who think George is treating Jack like shit, I found the perfect song to describe that, Heartless by Kanye West and T-Pain. Enjoy the next chapter!**

* * *

The next day, I calmed down and rationally thought things through. If Benji hadn't told the Joker where I live, then he would have been killed. Imagine my conscience then! And that was my conclusion. I would have done the same thing had I been placed in the same situation.

So I had to make things right and talk to Benji myself. I drove to his apartment and when I stood outside his door, I froze. I hate confrontation, it always makes me nervous. Especially when it comes to a friend. So I took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Benji opened the door a minute later and looked surprised, as well as guilty. Like he was saying "Oh shit" in his head.

"Hey," he said. "What are you doing here?"

I sighed. "Benji, we need to talk."

He warily stepped aside to let me in. "Sure. Come inside."

"Evan told me what happened," I said, crossing my arms.

He slapped his hand over his eyes. "Oh my God." He started to pace around. "I didn't want you to find out."

I shook my head. "Benji, I don't really know what to say."

"George, I'm so sorry."

I walked closer to him. "Don't worry about it. I only came here to set things straight. I kept thinking about it and I really can't blame you." I shrugged and smiled a bit.

Benji looked relieved. "I was so worried that you'd never speak to me again."

I hugged him, patting him on the back. "Come on Benji, you've been one of my best friends for years. You'll have to do something really terrible to make me hate you."

"Like robbing you blind or stealing your boyfriend?" he joked, pulling away.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Oh God, I don't want to think about that last part!"

* * *

Later that night, I was walking home by myself after having dinner with the guys. Stupid I know. And I was about to pay the price. The streets were oddly silent. It seemed like there wasn't a soul around. The sound of my high heels clicking against the sidewalk were like gunshots in the quiet and still night.

And then a pair of arms wrapped around my waist from behind, forcing me back into a small alley. I started to scream. "Help! Someone! Get the fuck off of me!"

In my struggle to break free, I think I kicked my attacker in the groin with my heel. He yelled out in pain and fell backwards and I landed on top of him. I was shaken, but I got up as fast as I could, Kicked him in the groin again, and thrust the space between my foot and the heel of my shoe between his neck. Those self-defense classes I took really paid off.

But then he grabbed my ankle and I fell down. He quickly rolled on top of me, pinning my arms down. In my torrent of thoughts, I finally laid eyes on my attacker. The Joker's hideous painted face stared my terrified face, with a look that said he was ready to pounce. My breath came in heavy, frightened puffs upon his countenance.

"Hmm," he said Lightheartedly. "Smells like you've had some garlic tonight."

I tried to push and kick and do whatever I could to force him off of me. I can't believe this is happening. The Joker has come back for me.

He laughed. "Well, well! This is a very awkward position we're in."

I sighed in defeat and stopped my shoving and kicking. "Please let go of my arms," I said breathlessly. "You're crushing them."

He pulled me up and pushed me against a wall. "Better? You always have to have it your way, don't you? He joked. Or at least I thought it was a joke.

I could feel tears forming in my eyes, but I fought them back. "What do you want from me?" I weakly asked.

"Oh silly!" he teased. "You know what I want."

His face moved down to my neck and his lips and tongue caressed the tender flesh. _It feels so good_, I sinfully thought.

I tried to ignore that incredible feeling. "Get off me!" I yelled, trying my best to push him away.

The Joker retaliated by punching me square in the jaw. I tasted my own blood and the tears that were locked up in my eyes now flowed freely down my cheeks.

A look of false sympathy washed over his face. "Oh, don't cry," he fake-pouted. "I'll make it better." The tip of his tongue ran over a tear on my cheek.

"You haven't had enough of me, have you?" I tried my best to sound confident but my voice cracked.

He flicked his tongue across his blood-red lips. "Five years without ya, dollface. How did I survive? I missed ya. I missed your smell and your body and your fiery personality."

A sudden wave of anger washed over me. "Well, I didn't miss _you_," I said, my lips quivering. "Five years is too soon for _me_." There I go, running my mouth. That's going to get me in deep.

And indeed it did. The Joker pushed me down and rose up to his feet, boiling with anger. "When is a good time for ya, hmm? Six months? Two years? _Ten_years,?" he shouted. Then he kicked me. Violently. Although it probably only lasted a minute, it felt like hours. It caused bruises on my arms and legs and my stomach twisted into a knot when he struck it. The blood in my mouth now spilled out onto the ground. "It doesn't matter," he continued. "Cause I'll always be here!" He kneeled down and grabbed my face in his hand. "Until the day you die."

He let my head fall back to the ground and left, leaving me badly injured in the alley. I laid on the ground and moaned in pain, my hair sticking to my sweat and tear streaked face. I sobbed. "Jack," I mumbled to myself. But that only made me cry more. I sounded pathetic. But I wanted him back. Why did I have to reject him and act like such a bitch?

* * *

**On the Other Side of Gotham**

The masked vigilante hid in the shadows. Far away not to be seen, but close enough to hear the 'business deal' being made by Sal Maroni and a couple of drug dealers. Batman stayed quiet, waiting for his opportunity to strike.

"So you have to get him at his most vulnerable and attack," Maroni directed at his men.

Attack? Why would common drug dealers do that? This piqued Batman's interest, so he listened more closely.

"What should we use in defense against the Batman?" one of the dealers asked.

"Don't say his name!" Maroni hissed. He turned to one of his goons who stood behind him and grabbed something from his hands. "Use these" Maroni handed the men two sub-machine guns. "They should do the trick even if his armor is impenetrable."

Batman almost stumbled backwards. _A plot to kill me?_, he thought. _Maroni's never tried that before_. Which meant that the 'drug dealers' weren't really dealers, but hit men, hired to kill him. Batman shot out of the dark alley quietly, to go back to his lair and uncover more about the plot.


	6. Bruce Wayne

**Thank you to 123Ekaterina, ryuzaki25, PurgatoryNymphe, nocoldwater, DarkHero87, mischieflover, and Hushabye for your lovely reviews!**

* * *

I managed to stumble out of the alley and onto the street, intending to walk home. I wiped the blood off my mouth and I fumbled a few times in my heels, my legs felt like Jell-O.

The streets were still empty, go figure. But behind me, I heard a thundering sports car in the distance. I'd say it was averaging about forty miles per hour, because it came near me fast. I slightly turned my head, and I saw a silver Lamborghini. As it came closer, it slowed down and eventually pulled over to the curb next to me. _Oh great_, I thought. _Now I'm about to get raped._I picked up the pace, as much as my injured legs would allow. But the driver of the Lambo rolled down his window and inched closer to me.

"Are you alright?" said the driver. I didn't look at him, but he sounded like a distinguished young man. A business type perhaps?

"I'm just wonderful. Never been better," I said in a shaky voice, walking a little bit faster. I tripped over my foot and almost lost my balance. "Fuck," I mumbled under my breath.

"Wait a minute. Aren't you Georgina Gordon?"

I stopped and looked at the man. "Bruce Wayne?" My eyes met his warm chocolate brown ones and scanned across his curious and concerned face.

He stepped on the brake, stopping the car. "What happened to you?"

I started to walk again, and he followed. "Nothing. I-I just need to get home."

"Hold on, Miss Gordon. You're in no shape to be outside at night by yourself. Let me take you home."

"No thank you, Mr. Wayne. I live by myself, so I'm used to being alone." I tried my best to show my slight aggravation in the most polite way possible.

"In that case, would you like to stay at my place tonight?" He said that without sounding sketchy, but it still didn't phase me.

I stopped and stared at him. "Sorry, but I'm not a whore, not even if you paid me a lot of money. Not that _you'd _need to pay to get some action, but that's beside the point. And I don't need your charity."

His face flushed red and he wore a sheepish smile. "I don't mean come home with me in _that_ sense. I meant don't go off on your own because your a bit shaken up. I'll take you to my penthouse a few blocks away. We'll both be on separate sides and my butler Alfred will take care of you."

I thought for a moment. There was really no denying his puppy dog-like expression and the whole penthouse-and-Lambo thing. "Fine," I said, sighing. "But you can't hit on me and I'll be gone first thing tomorrow morning."

He nodded. "Deal. I'll arrange for my driver to take you home."

I walked around to the passenger's side, opened the door, and stepped inside. After fastening my seat belt, I examined the interior from the shiny black leather seats, to the sophisticated Bose radio, to Bruce's casual attire of a black button-down and jeans. "Nice ride," I said as he pulled away from the curb. "Please don't drive like a maniac. You shouldn't do forty on these roads.

He smirked. "I'll go nice and slow for you."

Out of no where, I snickered. "That's what she said!" I exclaimed. "Sorry," I said when I calmed down. "I couldn't help myself. I can be kind of immature at times."

Bruce laughed too. "Don't worry about it, Miss Gordon. That would be a breath of fresh air compared to all the stuffy business types I'm surrounded by."

"Please, call me George." I think I blushed a little.

"Okay, George. So you and Benji are still friends I take it?"

I momentarily had forgotten that him and Benji were cousins. "Duh," I said playfully. "We're in the same band."

"Well, I thought that with fame and money came jealousy and eventually hatred," he joked.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but that won't happen until we're the biggest band in the world," I said, playing along.

After a minute or two of silence, I spoke again. "Listen, Mr. Wayne-"

"Bruce," he interrupted.

"Bruce," I continued, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. "I'm sorry about that little bitch-fest. That was rude."

"No offense taken. Now, do you want to tell me what happened?"

In the last few minutes I'd been talking to him, I totally forgot about my bloody-tasting mouth and sore limbs. "Oh, right," I hesitated. "Uh, this work was done by the Joker."

"What?" he stared at me and almost veered off the road. "Sorry," he mumbled when he regained control. "Are you talking about _the_ Joker?" He seemed angry.

I nodded. "The one and only. I'm afraid he's come back for me."

* * *

We arrived at Bruce's building and took the long elevator ride to the top. He lived in a penthouse, after all. And it was swanky, in a modern and minimalist sort of way. Instead of walls, there were large windows. The furniture was sleek and perfectly positioned, right down to the inch. And the floor plan was wide open, not many hallways and small rooms.

"Wow," I said. "It's very, um, modern" I walzted over to a window in the living area. It looked over downtown Gotham and across the distance sat the suburbs. "Can't really walk around naked in here, can you?" I joked.

He laughed. "I'm only staying here temporarily. The manor's undergoing renovations, so I'm here until it's done."

"You know, if you get some Cristal and skanky hoes, Lil Wayne could totally do a music video here."

Bruce laughed again. "I'll definetly have to think about that. Here, let me show you around."

He motioned for me to follow him, so I did. "Here's the bathroom," he said, stepping into a room off a small hallway. "There's some aspirin and bandages in the cabinets. And down here is your room for the night." He showed me a large guest bedroom boasting the huge windows and too much unused floor space. The the middle, up against one of the few walls in the room sat a king-size bed dressed in a white down comforter.

"You're too good to me, Bruce," I said.

An elderly man in a dark suit came walking down the hall. "This is Alfred," Bruce said to me.

"Ah good evening. You must be Miss Gordon," Alfred spoke.

"Correct sir. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise. Can I get you anything Miss?"

"I'm fine with just a glass of water."

Bruce turned to me when Alfred was out of earshot. "George, if you ever need anything, You're welcome to come here," he said softly. "We could use a pretty face like yours."

I was certain that I blushed, my face felt hot. "Bruce, you agreed not to hit on me."

He smiled coyly. "Oh, right. Sorry."

"But thank you very much for the offer. I really appreciate it."

"Anytime," he said. "Goodnight." He turned around and started to walk away.

"Goodnight."

* * *

I washed my face in the bathroom and popped a couple of aspirin. Then, I bandaged up any open wounds I had. Thankfully, there weren't many. Just a couple of scrapes on my arms from when I fell.

I traveled over to the guest bedroom. Even though the lights were turned off I could still see inside the room , Gotham City's lights illuminated the inside. It was kind of peaceful, actually. I slipped out of my clothes, leaving on only tank top and panties. I sunk down on the soft bed, pulling the covers over me. Despite what had happened that night, at that moment, I felt oddly at ease. When I should have felt scared and anxious and upset, I felt calm as the high thread count sheets rested against my skin.

Bruce was a good guy. Even though he was related to one of my best friends, I hadn't really known him. I guess I had a preconceived notion that he was just some rich asshole spending Daddy's money. But you have to look deeper before you can judge someone's character.


	7. Paradise out West

**Thank you to nocoldwater, ryuzaki25, Forts, FoxDemon303, PurgatoryNymphe, 123Ekaterina, mischieflover, Actress.4life, Hushabye, Greasepaint, lovelyxlady389, Pounce the mischevious cat, and 10soagirl90.**

**Here's a pretty pic of Heath Ledger that inspired the last scene in this chapter: ./2008/03/328993_heath_ledger_**

* * *

I woke up to the sun hitting me directly in the face. "Damn it," I mumbled, disoriented. At my apartment, I'm used to waking up in total darkness thanks to my light-cancelling blinds.

I rolled out of bed and slipped my clothes and shoes back on. After taking care of some business in the bathroom, I tip-toed out into the main room of Bruce's penthouse. It was kind of early, so I thought he might be asleep. But he wasn't around, so he was probably gone for the day. Hmm, if I was a billionaire, I sure as hell wouldn't be out before eight A.M. I'd sleep all day.

I ventured outside and looked for the driver Bruce said would be waiting for me. But I was still half asleep because I'd woken up only a few minutes before. Being thrust into a big, loud world like Gotham City when most of you isn't awake can really suck. Plus, my entire body ached. I didn't really feel like looking. I didn't even know what kind of car to spot. So I started to walk home, I didn't really care.

"Miss Gordon?" a man said from somewhere behind me.

I turned around to find a man waiting outside a spiffy black Rolls-Royce. "Yeah?"

I believe this is your ride home from Mr. Wayne." He opened the back door for me.

"No shit, really?" That wasn't sarcasm. I walked over to the door. "This guy's got way too much money."

I enjoyed the cushy, air-conditioned ride back to my apartment. When the driver pulled over to the curb outside my building, I rifled through my purse to find a tip.

"Don't worry about it, Miss. Mr. Wayne has already covered the expenses."

"Such a gentleman." I climbed out of the car. "Thank you."

I was happy to arrive home. I could finally brush my teeth and take a shower. I shoved my key into the keyhole and opened the front door.

I gasped when I saw the scene in front of me. Curtains were torn off the rods, papers and knick-knacks lay scattered on the floor, and the fabric from my furniture was ripped.

And that's when I lost my cool. "You fucking asshole!" I shouted, then I growled in anger. I think you know who I'm talking about. I threw my purse on the floor. "Why can't I get a fucking break?" I think the shower will have to wait.

I heard a knock on my door a few minutes after I called the police. I opened the door and a man in a suit stood outside.

"What's the problem, ma'am?" the man in the suit asked. I instantly recognized him.

"Billy?" I asked in disbelief. I hadn't seen him in forever.

"Detective Costello." He smiled and held out his badge.

I stepped aside to let him in. "Wow. You've really graduated haven't you?"

You could say that. Now, what happened here?"

"I don't know. I just came home about ten minutes ago and I found it like this." I used my arms to gesture.

"Was anything stolen?"

"I don't think so. Every room is turned upside down and I checked the whole place, but nothing's missing."

Billy walked around my ransacked living room, taking in any important detail he could. "Now this is strange. What was the motive? Why would someone destroy your apartment and not take anything of value?" His eyes probed mine, looking for the answer, which he already knew. "Or better yet, who?"

"You think the Joker did this?

"Certainly can't rule it out. Considering your recent and past history with him."

I sighed and glanced around the room. "It wouldn't fucking surprise me." Damn it, I probably shouldn't swear in front of someone who works for the police.

" We'll look into this, Miss Gordon, and contact you with any updates. In the meantime, there isn't much we can do now except connect you with a cleaning service to straighten this mess out." His eyes darted around my disaster of an apartment.

"No thanks on the cleaning service. I'll take care of it myself."

"Alright. Have a good day then."

I acknowledged him goodbye and shut the front door. Then, I slumped down the door and my butt landed on the floor. Looking around the pig sty in front of me, I sighed. "Good day my ass." That mess had to wait. Because I really needed a shower. "I need a vacation," I said as I stood up.

* * *

So I took one. It was a week after those little 'incidents' and I hadn't heard anything from the police and oddly enough, Jack or the Joker.

I rent a log cabin on a former ranch near the foothills of the Rockies in Montana. It's quiet, peaceful, and far away from the center of town. I like to go there whenever I've got too much on my plate. It's great to get out of the confines of the city every once in a while.

Mike and I arrived at the house sometime in the late morning. The day was sunny, mildly warm, breezy, and gorgeous. He went into town to pick up some food for the next few days, which left me by myself.

I decided to go for a walk. From my suitcase, I pulled out a fitted plaid button-down, distressed jeans, and cowboy boots and put them on. Since I was out west, I figured I should look the part.

I breathed in the fresh mountain air when I stepped outside. I walked off the shaded porch and onto the soft green sun on my skin felt like a warm blanket wrapped around me as my eyes wandered around the scenery before me. The rugged mountains in the distance rose up from the earth majestically. They looked so close that I thought I could reach out my hand to touch them. And the ranch rolled out in front of me with grass so vividly green, you could confuse this place with Ireland.

I made it to the woods about an acre away from the house. A slight smile found it's way onto my face as I stepped under the green canopy of trees. You don't see many trees in Gotham City. There's nothing naturally beautiful about that place, so I soaked in as much as I could. Like the birds chirping and the wind that rustled the leaves. I was on my way to my special little spot. A while ago, I came across this little pond in the middle of the woods. It even has a small waterfall. As far as I know, it hasn't been tainted by human hands because it sits on the house's property.

When I reached my destination, I laid down on by the edge of the pond, closed my eyes, and let the sun kiss my face. Some faint rustling came from the woods behind me, but I didn't think much of it. Must be a squirrel or something.

"Boo," a soft voice directly above me me spoke. It was a man's voice, it was deep, it was sultry, and I knew who it belonged to.

My eyes shot open. "Jack?" I was on my feet in an instant. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I said, more out of surprise than anger.

He seemed amused. "I could ask you the same thing," he said, smirking.

I eyed him. Was that a joke or was he serious? "No you can't. All this land here? Yeah, I rent it."

He pretended to look offended. "So you're saying this is private property and I have to leave?"

I didn't answer. I was too busy noticing how, dare I say it, good he looked. His blue jeans fit him like a glove and the white T-shirt he wore highlighted his sculpted chest. Wow, I feel like Bella Swan describing Edward. However, I finally realized that I was staring at him with my mouth hanging open and I probably looked like a tool.

"Ha-how did you find me here, hours away from Gotham?" I quietly asked, daring to take my eyes off of him.

He chuckled. "I told you, dear. I have my ways." His real and natural smile was, to put it bluntly, fucking breathtaking. And with the sun hitting his perfectly angled features and the wind blowing through his messy hair, it all added up to a deadly mix of pure man-beauty.

I figured I shouldn't ask about his 'ways.' I found myself slowly walking in reverse, and my back came into contact with a tree. Jack crept closer and closer, closing me in. There was no where I could run.

I didn't want to run. Secretly, deep down inside, I wanted him to come closer, as close as he could. I got sick of suppressing these feelings and trying to cover them up with hatred.

Jack stood only an inch or so in front of me. "You look nervous," he said, playing with a lock of my hair. "There's no need to be." And with that, his lips touched down on mine.


	8. Batman

**Thank you to Hushabye, DarkHero87, Tallyism, PurgatoryNymphe, mischieflover, nocoldwater, JeanieBeanie33, Forts, 123Ekaterina, ryuzaki25, Greasepaint, Marchanna, Beckoning Disaster, pianoplayeres and Dreamgirl13. Sorry if I forgot anyone, I accidentally deleted everything in my e-mail :/ and I apologize for not updating in forever. I was cursed with sickness, tons of homework, and general lack of inspiration. But I'll try to get the next chapter up soon.**

**The song used in this chapter is So by Static-X. Enjoy!**

* * *

My arms wrapped around his back, bringing him closer to me, as my hands ran up and down the soft cotton of his T-shirt. His hands rested around my neck. His lips were so soft and warm, I didn't want that kiss to end, as cliche as that sounds. But he ended it, and took a step away to take amused pleasure in my confused and surprised face.

"You're not going to run off like you did last time, are you?" Jack asked.

And then, I thought of something out of the blue. Something I've wanted to ask him for five years. "Why did you film me?"

He seemed confused, but the bewildered expression on his face changed as he made sense out of my question. "I never thought you would find out."

His tone made it seem like he _wanted_ me to know. "Well, I did. Five years ago, when you held me hostage. I wandered around your little hideout and stumbled across Georgina Gordon: The Movie."

He smirked. "Don't you mean Georgina 'Houghton': The Movie? Even when you change your name, you can't get past me."

I glared. "Don't you want to explain to me why you did that?"

"Do what?" He playfully dodged the bullet.

"Film me."

"No, I don't really _want_ to."

I sighed out of aggravation. "I'm asking you nicely."

"Indeed, you are."

"Please explain."

His eyes moved around, looking for a good place to start. "When I first saw you, I didn't know what it was, but you were so fascinating. I had to have more of you."

My fingers tapped against the tree I leaned against. "Wow, I-I don't really know what to say."

He smiled. "You could say that you're flattered." I wasn't sure if that was a joke or not.

But I had to tell him the truth. Something I wanted to say but never got around to. "Jack," I said quietly. "You know we can't be together."

"Is it the boyfriend? 'Cause I can easily take care of that." He looked smug.

I glanced up at him, slightly angry at his proposal. But that anger was soon directed at myself, for betraying Mike the way I did. "I don't think you get it." It came out more harshly than I intended. "It would be impossible for us to work out. You've got a fucking murderer inside you!"

He tried to remain calm. "George, you don't know how hard I've been trying to rid myself of this!"

"Rid yourself of it?! You just unleashed _it_ all over Gotham, blowing up buildings, killing people, and beating the shit out of me!"

After a few moments, he didn't say anything so I spoke again. "Why did you break out of Arkham? They could have helped you there."

"What? Helped me? George honey, you're so naive. You don't know how corrupt that place is. Besides, as soon as I showed signs of improvement, they would have thrown me in jail or I'd be on death-row. Have you no idea of how the American justice system works?"

I bit my tongue and took deep breaths so I wouldn't cry. Confrontation always does that to me. "Is there any hope for you?"

He moved closer to me and gently stroked the side of my face with the back of his hand. "There's you," he said, his voice soothing, like a mother cooing to her child.

I looked away, wrapped my hand around his wrist, and brought it back towards his body. "I can't do it. I want to, believe me, I fucking want to, but I can't. I-I don't know if I'm strong enough to handle this. You've put a lot on me, Jack. Plus, someone will inevitably find out about you, and we'll be driven apart. And I can't take that risk. I don't want anything to happen to you." It sounds really selfish, but but my reputation would be destroyed if the whole country found out that I'd been seeing the Joker. But more importantly, in some strange and twisted way, I cared about Jack and I didn't want anything to happen to him."

I continued when he didn't respond. "I need stability in my life and I can't get that from you." My voice started to shake and my lips quivered. Oh God, the tears are going to come.

He looked crestfallen. I wanted to tell him that everything would be alright, but I couldn't lie to him. Sometimes, a sweet, perfect lie can be more damaging than the awful truth.

My fingers looped around his, and his eyes met mine. I bit my lip. "I still have that picture." Of course, I was reffering to that old picture of him and his family, taken when he was only a teenager.

"I want you to keep it."

I nodded. "I'm sorry Jack." My hand dropped from his. But I didn't want it to. I wanted to feel the warmth emanate from his body. I turned around and started to walk away, but his voice stopped me.

"Do you love him?" he asked.

I turned to face him, not sure of what to say. Do I lie or do I tell him the truth? "Yes. I wouldn't be with him if I didn't." But was that the truth?

"I won't stop you." That was the most sincere I'd ever heard him.

I nodded and walked away as fast as I could so he couldn't see or hear me cry. As I exited the woods, I noticed that the sky was covered in a blanket of clouds and a few raindrops hit me. How fitting.

* * *

When George turned and walked away, that grotesque smile found it's way on Jack's face, creating an evil glint in his eyes.

"The joke's on you, honey! 'Cause I don't give up."

* * *

At his underground lair, Bruce Wayne made a startling discovery in the plot made by the mob to kill him. Not only did they want to kill him, but their other intended victims were the Joker and George.

"Oh no. Not George," Bruce said in desperation. Maroni would have a hell of a time attempting to assassinate the Joker, Bruce knew it would never happen, but George would be such an easy target.

"Discover anything new, Master Wayne?" said Alfred who brought down a thermos of coffee.

"They're trying to kill George."

"The lovely young lady? Why would they do such a thing?"

Bruce told him about all the dirt he dug up. The mob theorized that the Joker had escaped from Arkham in order to find George. With the clown on the loose, Maroni wouldn't be able to run his underground empire. So if George died, then where would that leave the Joker? He'd be crushed, in his own twisted little way, and that would significantly weaken him. Therefore the mob could take care of him without much difficulty.

"I didn't know those goons could formulate such an elaborate scheme," Alfred said.

"Well Alfred, the mob really grew when the Joker was locked up. I wouldn't doubt Maroni for anything. I don't think George has any idea that her life is in danger."

"So what does a billionaire with unlimited resources such as yourself do?" Alfred sarcastically asked.

"He puts on his mask and saves the day. Or he at least tries to."

* * *

For the rest of that trip, I put on a fake smile and tried to act upbeat. Mike didn't think anything was wrong. Surprise, he's a guy. But soon after, I came home, where I was free to be as melancholy as I wanted to. So I did just that. And I got a phone call from Billy with a possible lead on who might have broke into my apartment.

"We've gone over the security cameras in the hallway outside your front door, and we were able to spot the man who broke in during the middle of the night. And this guy has absolutely nothing to do with the Joker. In fact, he's a low-level who works for the mob boss Sal Maroni. I'm sure you've heard of him," he said.

"But why would he target _me_?" I asked, totally baffled.

"That's what were still trying to figure out."

So I've got a madman as well as the whole mob after me and I don't know why. That's just fucking great.

Later on that night, I settled into bed. Of course, I made sure to tightly lock every door and window and collect any potential weapon at my bedside. That included my trusty can of pepper spray and a knife. Come and get me if you dare.

I dozed off but I was awoken not too long after by the sound of a window opening. That would be my bedroom window, and I could barely make out a figure in the blinds. Please tell me I did not forget to lock that window. Oh shit. I practically froze while my hand reached over to my night stand and grabbed the knife. The figure entered my room and I discreetly left my bed. As soon as the person was inside, I tackled him with all my strength. Which, might I say, I don't have much of, so all he had to do was simply push me off. On the floor, I crawled over to a wall and pushed myself up, then flicked on the light switch.

As the light poured into my bedroom, my eyes landed on the intruder. The Batman himself stood on the other side of the room, staring at me. I was frozen for a second, until I snatched a sheet off my bed to cover up the semi-sheer nightgown I was wearing.

"You're in danger," his gruff voice spoke.

I didn't speak. I was too confused as to why Batman was standing in my apartment in the middle of the night.

"The mob is after you," he said.

"The mob is after me?" What else could I say?

"Because of your involvement with the Joker."

I blushed at his accusation. "If you're trying to imply that, then you're mistaken." He probably thinks I'm hooking up with him.

"Don't lie to me, Georgina. I know exactly what's going on. Maroni put a hit on both you and the Joker, in his attempt to control Gotham."

I plopped down on my bed. "One of his men ransacked this place recently. At first, I thought it was the Joker's doing."

"It wasn't him. You see, Maroni's plan is to kill you, which would in some way weaken the Joker, making it easier to kill him."

My eyes glanced around me, unsure of what to say.

"I'm sorry for intruding like this," Batman continued. "But I have to protect you."

And at that moment, I observed his chocolate brown eyes. They looked so familiar. Could it be?

I gave a little smirk. "Is that you Bruce?"

"No. You don't know who I am."

"Oh come, I'm not stupid." I walked over to him and placed my hands around his mask, taking it off before he could stop me. And behind that mask was the lovely face of Bruce Wayne. "Holy shit. I knew it!"

"Give me that," he said, taking the mask from my hands. "You can't tell anyone, besides Alfred."

"So here's the real face of the Caped Crusader. I have to say you stumped me. No offense, but you're the last person I'd expect."

"George, this isn't the time to joke around. You're in serious danger. You know where to go if you're in jeopardy." He strapped on his mask and swiftly departed out the open window.

So Bruce Wayne is the Batman. And the mob wants to kill me. Life just keeps getting more exiting, doesn't it?


	9. Noises in the Dark

**Merry Christmas everyone!!! Or happy Hanukkah/ Kwanzaa/ whatever you celebrate :) Thank you to mischieflover, DarkHero87, Greasepaint, 123Ekaterina, Hushabye, nocoldwater, PurgatoryNymphe, KymmiV, Rain With Pride818, and Crazy Katie Myers.**

**The song used in this chapter is Cold Ground by Rusty Truck. Here's where the story takes a darker turn and this chapter is kind of gory, so I apologize if you're squeamish. Great Christmas present, huh? **

* * *

I was still confused about the whole mob slash Joker slash Batman thing for the next few days. Well duh, wouldn't anyone be? But I wasn't a victim of gang-related violence and Jack hasn't shown his face around me. I think he actually stuck to his word. And it kind of got me down, as much as I hate to admit that. I shouldn't have been depressed over that, but I was. I couldn't help but think I said the wrong thing to him.

I was walking in a park with Mike one Saturday afternoon, trying hard not to think about Jack or Bruce's 'secret identity.'

"George, I know right now is a very stressful time for you and I can't even begin to imagine how that feels," he said.

"It's not that bad," I lied.

He stopped walking and faced me. "Come on honey, you don't have to lie to me."

"Okay," I hesitated. "I'm really scared."

"You know I'll do my best to protect you."

I forced a fake smile. "I know you would."

He took something small out of his pocket and knelt down on one knee. Oh shit.

"So would you let me start off by becoming your husband?" He opened the small velvet-covered black box, revealing a diamond set in a white gold ring.

I stood muttering incoherent things, not sure of what to do or say. I can't get married! I'm only twenty-two. I never wanted to be a young bride. And in that instant, I thought of Jack. I still held a flame for him, even though I shouldn't have, and how could I do that with a diamond on my finger?

"I know this is really sudden and we're both young, but I love you baby. We can make this work," said Mike, who looked up at me while still on one knee.

I shook my head. "I'm, I'm sorry Mike. I-I don't think I can do this," I stuttered. Whoa, I can't believe I was that up-front.

The hand that held up the tiny black box dropped down to his leg. "Oh. Uh, I'm sorry. I knew it wasn't good timing." He avoided my eyes.

"It's not your fault." Extremely awkward situation. Must leave now. "I, uh, have to go."

I strolled away before he could say "See you later." Oh God, did that really just happen? Yes it did. And Jack's scarred visage gave me a guilt trip over it. It was like I could see his eyes pleading with me to say no. Now, anyone new to my story might ask themselves, how does a girl decline a marriage proposal from a handsome and eligible young bachelor? Well, let me tell you that when a psychotic yet charming criminal is on your mind, your thinking becomes a little foggy.

* * *

Mike's proposal still lingered in my head well into the next day. It kept me awake for most of the night. So there I was, lying sleepless in my bed at three in the morning. In my racing thoughts, I came down to the decision that I would march my ass over to his place later on and shove that ring on my finger. I need to be with someone who can keep me safe, someone who isn't a danger to himself or those around him. Clearly Jack isn't one of those guys.

The next day was warm and sunny, typical for the end of August. I drove to Mike's apartment, even though it was eight-thirty A.M. on a Sunday. But I barely slept and I was too anxious to make this wait any longer.

I knocked on his door, but there was no answer after a minute. Maybe he was still sleeping. I knocked again. "Mike, are you there? Get up, I have to tell you something!"

The door still remained closed. I listened closely for a sound inside, as if he would come stumbling half-asleep to answer the door, but it remained eerily silent.

Something told me this wasn't right. My hand latched onto the doorknob and turned it. Oddly enough, the door was unlocked. I knew Mike would never leave it unlocked if he was sleeping or if he wasn't home. Okay, this isn't good. My heart raced as I stepped through the threshold, frantically beginning my search for him.

"Are you here? Honey, I made up my mind! I want to marry you!" As soon as I said that last sentence, I rounded the corner to the kitchen and came face-to-face with a scene from a horror movie.

My boyfriend lay dead in a pool of his own blood. His throat was slashed open and the blood from the wound drenched his clothes. But that wasn't the most disturbing part. The corners of his mouth were cut in two bloody lines up to his ears, forming a grotesque smile on his cold, dead face. Joker cards were strewn across the room, blood splattered everywhere on the walls, floor, and cabinets, and the word 'HA' was scribbled on the walls in Mike's blood. A scream escaped from my lips.

* * *

"From the looks of it, he's probably been dead since last night," I overheard the coroner say as he examined Mike's body. I shuddered at the thought of him laying dead while I tried to fall asleep.

"This has to be one of _the_ most gruesome I've seen in a while. I still can't believe the Joker's back and killing people," a police officer said.

I was seated on the couch in the living room, listening to the conversation, trying to tune it out. I watched as the seemingly endless cacophony of cops scurried about, and the crime scene photographers snapped away. I wasn't in hysterics. Instead, I sat motionless with a blank stare, completely numb. Is that odd when you just found your boyfriend's dead body?

Billy took a seat next to me. "Are they done questioning me?" I asked.

"Most likely," he said.

"Why are they even bothering? They know who killed him. It was the Joker."

"I know. But it's still something we have to do."

A gurney with a black body bag was pushed out of the kitchen and out the front door. They were moving Mike's body. I think I winced.

"It seems like bad luck follows me everywhere, doesn't it," I semi-joked.

Billy gave me a sympathetic smile. "Sometimes, I guess it seems like that. But it has to end sometime, right?"

I nodded.

"Will you be okay getting home?"

"I'll be fine. Can I leave now?"

"Yeah. I think you've had enough today."

* * *

Right after I left Mike's apartment, I found myself outside Bruce's penthouse, waiting for someone too answer the door. I really needed to see him.

Alfred greeted me at the front door. "Ah, Miss Gordon. So nice to see you."

"Hi Alfred," I said shakily. "Is Bruce around?"

"Of course. Please come inside."

"Thanks."

"Is everything alright, Miss?" He apparently noticed my anxiousness.

"Actually, no. I just really need to see Bruce."

"I'll go get him. In the meantime, please make yourself at home." He gave me a warm smile.

I took a seat on the couch. Bruce came strolling into the main living room a minute later. "George? Alfred said something was wrong. What is it?"

I shot up and walked over to him. And I completely lost my cool. Tears spilled from my eyes as I wrapped my arms around him in a tight embrace. "He killed him," I said through sobs.

"Wait a minute. Who's he and who did he kill?"

"The Joker. He-he killed my boyfriend. Slit his throat and cut up his face."

Bruce stroked my hair, trying to calm me down. "Oh my God," he muttered under his breath. "How did you know it was him?"

"Joker cards were everywhere in his kitchen. That's where I found him." I buried my face in his chest and cried some more. Oh God, he smelled so good. "I'm so sorry to lay this on you."

He took my face with both of his hands. "Look at me," he gently said. "Don't ever say you're sorry."

"But it's my fault that he killed him!"

"George, you can't blame yourself. I won't let you." His voice was soothing. "Because I have to protect you."

A genuine smile came on my face. "Of course you do. Because you're the Batman."

He slightly laughed. "That would be about it. And because I like you, George. If anything happened to you, it would kill me."

I blushed. Ugh, I probably looked like an idiot with my smeared mascara and flushed cheeks.

"I think you should stay here for the night," he said.

I bit my lip and though for a moment. "Okay. But remember the rule from the last time?" I smiled again. "You _are_ a notorious playboy after all."

He grinned. "Your wish is my command."

* * *

That night, I found myself restless. Even though I had only slept for a few hours the night before, I couldn't sleep. I had too much running through my mind. It was about eleven o'clock at night and I leaned against the massive window in Bruce's guest bedroom, staring outside at all of Gotham City. I had so many questions in my head that I needed answers to. For instance, is there a legitimate reason why the Joker does what he does? How long can this last? Is there a light at the end of this tunnel? And is Bruce that light?

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open. Could it be Bruce? Oh damn, is he looking for a late-night hookup? He must be one of those guys who think that a girl will hop into bed with them when she's in mourning. But from watching the human figure in the doorway slowly making it's way toward me, I knew it wasn't him. It's posture was hunched and the shoulders were broad. The hair hung down in greasy strands and the overcoat swung at it's knees.

"Hahahahahahahahaha," it continuously chuckled. Oh no. Dear God, no.

_Just breathe, George,_ I told myself.


	10. Hostage

**Happy New Years! I'm so glad 2008 is over, it sucked for me, haha! Thank you to 123Ekaterina, PurgatoryNymphe, lovelyxlady389, nocoldwater, hayly baby, mischieflover, Hushabye, TheBlackestOfRoses, and Greasepaint.**

**To see George's dress, go to my profile and the song used in this chapter is Blow Me Away by Breaking Benjamin.**

* * *

"Hahahahahaha," the voice laughed. Quiet, but still menacing.

I froze in terror. My palms pressed against the glass of the window behind me, trying to back away, but there was nowhere else to go. My heart was ready to burst out of my chest as I anticipated what would happen next.

The figure stepped into the light that poured in the room from the lights outside. The Joker stood before me in full regalia, gun in hand. He ceased his laughter as his eyes fell upon my frightened form, and a vicious smile stretched across his painted face.

"Good evening, Georgie!" he said, running his tongue across his lips.

My breaths grew heavier and shorter when he slowly inched closer to me.

"Ya look nervous!" He slipped an arm around my waist so tightly that I couldn't escape. I couldn't scream. I tried to, but only a few pathetic whimpers came out of my mouth.

"Oh, shh," he cooed into my ear as he stroked my hair. "Come for a midnight stroll with me. I'll make it all better!"

With his arm still around my waist, he led me outside the bedroom. "Bruce!" I suddenly screamed at the top of my lungs. Come on, Batman, please be close.

The Joker snickered. "_Oh! _Shacking up with Bruce Wayne, huh? Ya know, I've never thought about it, but you two would make the cutest couple!"

"Let her go and get the fuck out of here," Bruce's voice spoke. I craned my head to the side to see him holding a gun angled in the Joker's direction.

The Joker turned around, pulling me with him. "Sorry, Brucie! I can only do one of those two things. I'll leave, but she's comin' with me!" He wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I heard a metallic click and then felt a cold piece of metal against my temple. "You shoot _me, _and I shoot _her._"

"You wouldn't do that." Bruce's voice was steady.

I flinched at the sound of the Joker's sudden laughter. "You wanna bet?" he howled. "Try me!"

He took off with me and ran for the stairs that went down into the lower area of Bruce's penthouse. I turned my head slightly to see him chasing after us. The Joker shot behind him, but Bruce missed it by a hair. Bruce fired a bullet aimed for the back of the Joker's head, but he ducked, so the bullet pierced through a window, sending shards of glass landing on the floor.

I gripped onto the Joker's arm and tried to pry it off of me. "Bruce!" I cried. "Please help me!"

"Don't worry, George. You'll be fine," he called after me. I knew he was lying. There was no way I could escape the Joker's death grip.

The Joker snarled as we descended the stairs to the foyer of the penthouse. "How cute! Look at you, Bruce, sticking up for your woman!" I wanted to tell him that we weren't a couple, but there was no time for that.

Goons in clown masks holding guns stood around the room, ready for action. "Go ahead and lie to her, Bruce!" the Joker sneered. "Tell her you're gonna sweep in and save her when you can't!"

He aimed his gun at Bruce and fired. "No!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, fearing the absolute worst in that moment. The bullet hit him, and he fell to the floor, letting go of his gun. But miraculously, he pushed himself up and clutched onto his upper arm that had blood oozing out. I mentally sighed in relief because he wasn't hit in a crucial area like his torso or head. But nonetheless, he yelled out in pain.

"Oh shucks, I missed!" the Joker said. "But we don't have enough time to dwell on that." He yanked me forward towards the exit, but I tried to fight back.

"Let me go!" I shouted, tyring to shake out of his grip.

He continued to stride toward the door and down all the flights of stairs, with all his clown goons in tow. "Now why would I do that?" he chuckled. "I went through all this trouble to getcha in my possession. I'm not letting you go!"

I protested all the way down from the top of the skyscraper to the ground level, tripping and stumbling over a stair here and there, and ultimately running out of breath. The Joker led me to the back exit where a black van was idling on the curb. He opened the back door and threw me inside. I saw clowns sitting up front before something hit the back of my head, and everything went black.

* * *

I awoke slowly in a soft, large, and luxurious bed in a room that clearly did not belong to me. I sat up abruptly, almost too abruptly, so my head went spinning. The back of it ached and I grimaced as my fingertips touched the tender bump. That's gonna be there for a while. I pushed off the gold and cream colored sheets and comforter and slowly stood, realizing that I wore the same outfit that I had on when the Joker made a little surprise visit to Bruce's home. A tight-fitting Led Zeppelin T-shirt and boot-cut jeans. My flip flops were discarded on the dark wood floor.

I stretched as I looked around the room. A few small lamps were turned on and it was very large in size, with the four-poster bed and ceiling-high windows. But it was also ornate and detailed. Tapestries and paintings of European countrysides and important people from long ago hung on the walls. There was a fireplace with intricately carved mantle that probably hadn't been used in years. An oriental area rug was draped over the hardwood floor, which felt so soft against my bare feet and the walls were covered with an interesting deep red brocade-style wallpaper, with rosewood paneling at the bottom.

I assumed that I was taken hostage in the old, abandoned mansion that the Joker lived in. Lovely. Then my thoughts shifted over to Bruce. I panicked when I remembered that He'd been shot in the arm. Oh God, I hope he's okay.

Suddenly, the door swung open and hit the wall with such force that I nearly jumped out of my skin. The Joker stomped into the room towards me, that disgusting smile on his face.

"Where am I" I asked.

"Where do ya think you are?" He stood only a few centimeters from me. I felt his hot breath on my face.

How long have I been asleep?" My eyes veered to the floor, avoiding his.

"Hmm!" he mused. "A long time!" He waltzed over to a window and pushed back the thick velvet drapes, revealing the outside to be a dark dream world with a star-studded sky.

"That long?" I estimated that I'd been sleeping for almost twenty-four hours.

"It's such a marvelous summer's night," he said, coming my way. His intense eyes were fixed on me, making me self-conscious. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out something small. "Will you marry me?" His voice rang out in a mocking tone. He laughed as he threw the tiny object at me.

I clumsily caught it in my hands. It was the diamond engagement ring that Mike had offered me only two days before. I stared at it, then at the Joker, not knowing what emotion to feel. My vision became blurry due to the tears filling up in my eyes. How could that bastard mock me like that?

Anger overtook me and I chucked the ring at him. "You asshole!" I yelled.

In a flash, he pinned me against the nearest wall and whipped out a switchblade that he pressed against my throat. "It was a _joke_," he said, rolling his eyes. "And I _thought_ ya had a sense of humor."

A cold sweat broke out on my forehead and my breathing grew heavier as the metal blade threatened to dig into the flesh. "It wasn't funny," I managed to say between frightened pants.

He rolled his eyes again and lifted the blade form my neck. "Everyone's a critic." He walked away to a large armoire, opened the double doors, and pulled out an evening gown and a pair of shoes. "You're gonna put these on and meet me downstairs!" he said excitedly, holding them up, and then throwing them to me.

I examined them. The shoes were champagne-colored high-heeled sandals. The dress was an expensive looking slinky lavender number made out of satin with a halter neckline, short train in the back, and an elaborately beaded bodice. It was a perfect outfit if I was in a beauty pageant or at the Oscars.

"You can't make me wear this," I stated.

"You're right, toots, I can't. But ya can't wear _that_," he said, noting my T-shirt and jeans. So I could help ya put it on. Or," he wildly licked his lips. "You could come down naked."

I shot him a disgusted look. _Keep it in your pants_, I thought.

"You've got ten minutes to clean up." He probably assumed that I _would_ go downstairs fully clothed, much to his disappointment.

He slammed the door behind him. I looked at the dress and shoes in my hands and sighed.


	11. Your Lips, Your Lies, Your Lust

**Sorry I haven't updated in a long time, I've been wicked busy. Final exams really kick my ass! Anyways, thank you to mischieflover, 123Ekaterina, nocoldwater, Greasepaint, DarkHero87, PurgatoryNymphe, Hushabye, SilverFang4190, Forts, TheSodaVampire, and Sarah A. Black, for your awesome reviews and such!**

**The songs used in this chapter are Stumble And Pain by Joseph Arthur and The Feel Good Drag by Anberlin. Enjoy!**

* * *

The cold water being splashed on my face really woke me up. I shut off the faucet and searched around this bathroom for a towel. Oh, there it was, hanging on a rack two feet away. For some strange reason, the Joker had basic amenities like running water and electricity in this old manor, although I'm pretty sure the towels aren't clean. The one I had was covered with nice little stains of black, red, and white make up.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, pointing out to myself the flaws that needed fixing. Most of my makeup had worn off with sleep and bawling my eyes out yesterday, leaving only shiny skin and slightly smudged mascara. My hair was limp and wavy from sleeping, not much I could do there.

I undressed out of my clothes and pulled on the dress, zipping up the side to conform to my shape. It had a pretty good fit, but it the hem was too long. I strapped on the high heels and once again looked at myself in the mirror. Questions ran through my mind such as why am I here and what does the Joker have planned for me that involves formal attire?

I took a deep breath and left the bathroom, into the dimly-lit hallway and down the grand staircase, my heart racing. I was about ready to pass out.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs to the foyer, a group of goons passed by. Once I saw their faces, I was able to put names to them. Bob, Sparky, and Joe stared at me with curiosity, as if to see how much I've changed over the last five years. Standing there in a sparkly evening gown, I've never felt so self-conscious in my life.

A door towards the right opened, and Jack waltzed into the foyer. His hair was slicked back and he wore a black suit. The goons quickly scurried out, as if it was a silent demand.

He strutted towards me and circled me like a hawk eyeing it's prey, hungrily licking his lips. Okay, now I feel even more self-conscious.

"My, my. You look _beautiful_," he said. Well, I certainly didn't feel it.

"Come with me," he spoke into my ear, his hot breath tickling it. He slipped an arm around my waist and pushed me forward with him.

He led me to a set of double doors and kicked one open, revealing a large, elaborate ballroom with twinkling chandeliers and frescoes painted on the ceiling.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me to the middle of the floor. "Do you know how to ballroom dance?" he asked.

"No," I replied. "There isn't even any music."

But that didn't stop him from sweeping me into a dance, and I almost lost my balance in the process.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I sharply asked.

"Dancing," he said with a grin.

We danced in the antique ballroom without any musical accompaniment. Fucking weird. Then Jack dipped me so low that I almost tumbled to the floor. I clutched onto his arm as hard as I could.

"Don't worry," he said with a mischievous smirk. "I won't let you go."

"Is there any reason why I'm wearing this dress?" I asked when he pulled me back up.

He shrugged. "I just wanted to see what you look like all dressed up. And you didn't disappoint." He grinned.

I looked away.

He lifted up my chin to face him. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you smile. I think you should, you probably have a beautiful smile."

"You've never given me a reason to smile," I said.

He laughed out loud like a madman and pointed to his face. "This face haunting your thoughts and dreams isn't enough?"

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say that you need to give me a chance."

I looked away to avoid his eyes. "Jack, you can't ask that of me."

He looked as if he thought I was kidding. "Oh Georgie, you and I both know that you're madly in love with me!"

He was right.

"You murdered my boyfriend." I suddenly grew angry.

"So I see you found out."

I was the one who found his body. How the hell do you expect me to forgive you for that?!"

His grip on me tightened. "Didn't I tell you that I'd take care of the boyfriend issue?"

"I don't get you. Where do you think you get off doing all of this?"

"What's the matter, George? Am I not good enough for you? I'm sorry that I wasn't born rich like Bruce Wayne."

"Are you kidding me? Me and him are nothing. Like it's any of your business anyways."

Jack stopped dancing and grabbed my arms roughly. "It _is _my business, _dear_. Let's not forget that you belong to me. You're mine."

I tried to shift out of his grip. "I don't belong to anyone, especially you. You've caused me enough pain for one lifetime."

Howling with laughter, he turned towards the door and took me with him. "_You _call it pain because you're naive. _I _call it affection because that's what it is. And you're gonna stay here until you finally see it."

He dragged me back to the room where earlier, I slept. He pushed me inside.

"Ya wanna know why I do what I do?" he said as he inched closer to me. Cue the suspenseful music.

I backed away, but it did nothing. His fist came into contact with my cheek, and it was much more painful than I remembered.

"Because I can." He laughed at his own terrible joke. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go put on my make up." He turned to make his way to the door. "Oh, and don't even think about running away. 'Cause I'll find ya. I always do!" The door slammed shut behind him.

* * *

Outside the House, Far Away

Commissioner Gordon looked stressed out as he anticipated the best time to infiltrate the property. But of course he was tense and restless, his daughter was taken by the Joker. Again. The one thing this father feared the most.

The police officers and SWAT teams moved around behind the bend in front of the driveway, in a place where they couldn't be seen from the house. But that wasn't what caught his attention.

The Batman appeared out of nowhere. He was hard to see in the darkness of the night.

"What's the situation, Commissioner?" he spoke in his gruff voice.

A pair of young officers whispered to each other, in disbelief that they were witnessing Batman himself for the first time.

Gordon looked over at them, but turned his attention to Batman. "We think she's in there. But we don't know when to go in."

"I'll go in." He turned to leave, but Gordon's voice stopped him.

"Wait! You don't know where she is, or where _he _is."

"There's no time to wait. I'm getting your daughter back." Batman turned and ran to the back of the house, the best place not to be seen.

Gordon faced the SWAT team, who was ready for action. "Go in there and back him up!" he exclaimed.

The Bat flicked on the sonar switch on his mask, which enabled him to peer through a wall in a building in order to see what's going on in there. In this case, he had to find George and he had to be sure that the Joker wasn't anywhere near her.

In a room on the second floor, Batman saw a woman with long hair and wearing a dress sitting on a bed, her back facing the windows. That had to be her, so he made his move.

* * *

George's POV

It had been sometime since the Joker threw me in here like a broken toy. But I didn't know exactly how long. There was no clock in here. It felt like hours, though.

I sat on the bed, slouched over, picking at my nails when I heard something hit the wall outside. I didn't think much of it, it was probably just a bat. But then the window behind me shattered. I practically jumped five feet in the air and shot up off the bed. Oh my God, it _was _bat. And he walked towards me, crunching broken glass under his feet.

"Oh thank God, you're here!" I said, out of breath.

"We have to leave now before the Joker gets here," said, keeping his cool. "Come with me."

I followed him to the window.

He wrapped an arm around me and from his free hand, shot a thin cable and the base hit the wall. So that was were that sound came from.

"Hold on," he said, then he jumped out, suspended only by the cable.

It wasn't a very high jump, so we landed on our feet when we reached the ground. Batman grabbed my hand and started to run.

"Your father and the police are waiting around the bend. We have to get there _now_!"

"Wait!" I stopped him at the side of the house. My back touched the wall and I grabbed his arms, forcing him to come closer to me. "This is long overdue." Then, my lips pressed onto his.


	12. Love is a Funeral

**Hello everyone! Sorry I haven't updated in a long time, school and writers block really suck. Anyways, I saw TDK in IMAX the other night and it was the best effing thing ever!!! Other than that, big thanks to hayly baby, 123Ekaterina, DarkHero87, mischieflover, nocoldwater, Hushabye, Purgatory Nymphe, and CrazyDentist-LuVeR**.

* * *

My lips broke away from his, but I didn't want them to. I wish I could have stayed there forever, protected by the dark. Cliche, I know. It was a shame he wasn't hanging upside down. Then it could have been just like that scene in Spiderman, am I right people?

"We need to get out of here," Batman said, shaking me out of my reverie. I knew that was Bruce speaking to me, but that black armor he sported acted as a mask hiding his true self.

I silently obeyed, running with him as fast as my high-heeled shoes would allow, holding up the bottom of my dress so I wouldn't trip. Eventually, I spotted police cars and cops, hidden away from the mansion the Joker called home.

"George?" a voice called. My dad. He ran over to me and pulled me into a hug. "Oh thank God! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine Dad. Now can you let me go? You're cutting off my air supply."

"Sorry. I just don't want to lose my little girl."

I looked around to find Batman. But he was nowhere in sight.

"Where did he go?" I breathlessly asked my dad.

He wore an amused expression. "He does that a lot."

* * *

Mike's funeral occurred three days later. I was told by the funeral home directors that it could have waited a little while, given my recent second escape from the Joker's clutches, but I just wanted to get it over with.

So there I was, sitting amongst his grieving family and friends under a huge, old oak tree in the humid and sweltering Louisiana heat. That's where he was raised and that's where his final resting place would be. I felt numb on the inside as a woman sang a Southern funeral hymn, causing more onlookers to sob. But I kept a straight face. In fact, I didn't cry a single tear. I didn't feel upset. I didn't feel angry. I honestly didn't feel anything. Strange when your boyfriend has just been gruesomely murdered by the psycho you've been unwillingly spending your time with.

That of course, garnered me some not-so-nice looks from Mike's family. They never liked me. I don't think they were too keen on him being in a relationship with me, a professional musician from the North. They thought I had a plan to steal him from them and have him live with me in the dangerous world of Gotham City. They had their evidence because we started dating right after he graduated from Gotham University and soon after, he landed a job at Wayne Enterprises. And now they could blame me for his death. That was the only thing they were right about. But couldn't they lay off on the dirty looks for once? We were at a fucking funeral!

* * *

By dusk, the funeral and wake were over. The cemetery was void of anyone but myself. Well, not if you count the hundreds of dead bodies, but you get what I'm saying. When the sun went down the air cooled off considerably, so I went for a stroll. You know, because I'm strange like that. I love walking through vast, beautifully-kept graveyards. They're so peaceful and silent because everyone is dead. Plus, I enjoy reading the headstones, learning when a person lived and died and who they're buried with.

This cemetery I was in, the one where Mike was buried, was so much different from the ones in Gotham. We don't have the hundred-year-old willow trees or the past mingling so closely with the present. Seriously, this place could have appeared the same way one hundred and sixty years ago.

Maybe it was my imagination working on overdrive, but the air inside felt cooler. So I slipped on a lightweight black cardigan over my knee-length black dress and took the pins out of my hair, letting the tight bun fall down. I followed the tarred path, past a small pond covered with scum and lily pads and numerous graves, both ancient and new. I wasn't sure where it would lead but I didn't care. It's not like I had anywhere to be. My eyes skimmed over the names and dates of the deceased, but just one grave in particular caught my eye.

It was just your average run of the mill granite headstone but the name was anything but average. At least it was to me. It read Napier. I ran my fingers over the engraving, just to be sure I wasn't hallucinating. My heart skipped a beat as I further examined it. I squatted down and read the names on the back.

David William: July 10, 1955 to June 25, 2001

Brenda Lynn: April 29, 1956 to June 25 2001

Lauren Sophia: September 18, 1983 to June 25, 2001

Jason Thomas: February 5, 1990 to June 25, 2001

A cluster of other dead Napiers had their names etched on the stone, but they meant nothing to me. Because they didn't perish on June 25, 2001.

"That's my sister Lauren and my brother Jason," Jack said to me five years ago, pointing out the young woman and preteen boy in that photograph I still held onto.

I instantly recognized those names. David and Brenda must have been their parents. They all died on the same day, allegedly slain by the mob. In some strange twist of fate, Jack survived the attack, leaving him with his scars and some intense psychological trauma. But who knew if that was actually true? At least I had _some _evidence of the Joker's past life.

A sudden gust of wind tore through the warm summer night, chilling me to the bone despite wearing a sweater. The night seemed to grow darker. How long had I been there? I stood up, suddenly feeling intensely uncomfortable, as if I was being watched. I sprinted like hell out of there, tripping and falling flat on my face after a few steps.

I thought my imagination was still working overtime, what with the darkness closing in and all, but I could have sworn I heard cackling laughter far behind me.

* * *

Two days later, I was back in Gotham. I left the morning after the funeral. That was probably a huge sigh of relief for Mike's entire family. And it was for me because that little episode at the graveyard really freaked me out.

I was chilling at home watching Six Feet Under reruns when I heard someone knocking at my front door. I opened it to find Bruce standing on the other side.

"Hey," he said with a sheepish smile.

"Hi Bruce," I replied. What is he doing here? "Uh, would you like to come in?" I stepped out of the way to let him inside.

"Oh yeah. Thanks." He walked inside and I closed the door.

I felt like an inferior slob wearing a tank top and sweat-shorts while the richest man in Gotham stood inside my equally inferior apartment. Even when he dresses down, Bruce Wayne always looks like a movie star.

"I'm sorry that my apartment and I are lacking in attractiveness right now. I haven't really been around for the last few days and I wasn't expecting company," I said.

"Don't worry about it. I think it looks fine. Both you _and_ your apartment."

I flashed a smile at his failed attempt to make me feel pretty.

"Uh listen," he said, jamming his hands in his pockets. "We should talk about some things."

"Talk about things?" I questioned.

"I'll explain it over drinks."

"It's only three o'clock. Alcoholism much?" I joked.

He smiled that perfect smile of his. "I'm serious, George. That is, if you're willing to be seen in public with me."

"Well, I'm pretty sure everyone in Gotham thinks I'm a scumbag, so why not look like a gold digging attention whore by hanging out with you?"

"Things can't get much worse, I guess." The playful smile still remained plastered on his face.

"Let me just change first." I practically ran to my bedroom to change clothes, felling naked all of a sudden.

* * *

Bruce and I sat down at a small table in an upscale bar. It was his choice of course. And it was a far cry from the sports bars I was accustomed to. So I felt very under-dressed in jeans and flip flops.

"Always the best for you, huh?" I said, looking around at the soft lighting and strikingly overly modern features.

He shrugged. "It's one of my favorites."

"So what did you want to talk about?"

"Oh yeah." He nervously played with the glass of his Bacardi and Coke. "We've been getting pretty close to each other over the past few weeks, right?"

"You could say that." I took a long sip of my Bud Light for courage. Oh Lord, what is he trying to say?

He leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "And you know about what I do at night."

I sat back in my chair. "Did you bring me here to tell me not to snitch?"

"No, no, no," he said, shaking his head.

"Because you know I have better things to do." I smirked.

Bruce had on a nervous smile. He looked like a boy asking a girl to the prom. Kind of cute but at the same time kind of sickening.

"I brought you here to ask you if you'd go out with me. Officially." A second later, he said "I know this probably isn't the best time to ask but God, George, I can't stop thinking about you. You're so intelligent and beautiful and one of the funniest people I've ever met."

"Wow Bruce, you really know how to charm a girl," I said, glancing away. My thoughts harkened back to Jack.

_No George honey, don't fucking listen to that._ _You're being really stupid. Jack is a psycho, to say the least. Bruce is mentally stable. I think. _

"Uh, sure. Why not? I really like you," I said.

He relaxed his tight shoulders and sighed. "Thank God. I thought you'd say no."

"You shouldn't act so nervous," I joked. "It's bad for your reputation.

* * *

So Bruce Wayne and I are officially "dating." Which begs the question do I feel like a girl in a shitty romantic comedy being swept off her feet by the handsome prince? No. Even though Bruce _is _Gotham royalty, he's just a normal person like the rest of us. He puts his pants on one leg at a time. But once his pants are on, he makes a shit load of money. Come to think of it, he could probably do it without wearing pants, but that might not work out too well. But one thing's for sure, Jack is definitely not going to like this.


	13. Tonight's Entertainment

**Hey guys, sorry to once again take a long time to update but February vacation means more time to write, so I think I can come up with another chapter very soon. And I've come up with some great ideas for another fic with the Joker that I'll post when I'm finished with this one :) Anyways, thank you to DarkHero87, mischieflover, nocoldwater, PurgatoryNymphe, 123Ekaterina, Hushabye, and Emzx.**

**The song used in this chapter is Blow Me Away by Breaking Benjamin. Oh and go to my profile to see George's dress. Enjoy!**

* * *

The Joker is locked up in Arkham Asylum. Again. That night, it was exactly a week ago today, the old manor he had been living in was raided by the police. So as I think about it now, the mansion is empty, all of it's inhabitants are sitting in jail cells. However the Joker is probably occupying a nice padded cell. Always the best for him.

I can still hear his insane laugh in my head. It's there everyday and it's not going away anytime soon. Does that mean I miss him or something? I suppose it does. We do have a strange history. He'll always take over my thoughts, whether I like it or not. Which is why I need to know what's really wrong with him. It's been eating away at me for years.

I had to get as much information on him as I could. So I consulted Karen, who works as a secretary at Arkham. Hopefully I could dig through some files on our little friend the Joker.

* * *

I pulled up to the front of the imposing brick structure. The place looked more like a haunted house than a place of residence for the criminally insane. It was outside the city, away from all of the lights and bustling traffic, which added to the creepiness.

My nerves grew with every step I took that brought me closer to the front door._ He_ was in here, but I wasn't going to see him. Oh hell no. I stopped in front of the door, anxiously clutched the strap of my bag, gripped the door handle and stepped inside. The interior wasn't any more pleasent than the outside, I'm sad to say. The ceiling was much too high and the marble floor was cold and uninviting. But a place like this _shouldn't_ be inviting. The only light came from a huge widow situated in front of a huge staircase that led up, then branched out in two directions, giving way to two balconies parallel to each other, which looked over the main floor. A number of people scurried up and down the stairs. Probably psychiatrists and what-not.

I spotted Karen sitting at the front desk against the wall in front of the staircase.

"Hi Karen," I said. "Now's the time, right?"

She looked up from her computer and looked at me with concern. "George, I don't know if you should be doing this."

"Why not?"

She thought for a moment before she spoke. "You shouldn't be digging up this information about him. It's not good for you mentally."

"Come on. I'm a big girl, I think I can handle it."

She sighed, stood up from her desk chair, and smoothed out her skirt. "Fine, but if you fuck yourself up, you're not blaming me. Follow me."

I followed Karen up the stairs to the balcony on the right, and then to a room towards the end. It looked like an office. Karen swiped a set of keys from a drawer in the desk and unlocked the file cabinets that set next to each other at the end of the room.

"You're lucky the security here sucks, otherwise I wouldn't have access to this," she said.

"It seems like luck is my middle name."

"Just be careful in here, these are classified medical records for all of our patients. Please put everything back where you found it."

"I'll make sure to do that."

"And my boss should be back from his lunch break in about an hour so make it snappy."

"I'll be out in no time."

Karen closed the door behind her and I was ready to get cracking. My hands shuffled through the files. The records were organized by last names in alphabetical order so I went straight to the N's. There was no Napier. What the fuck? Then I figured out that the little scamp never gave the doctors his real name, only his alias. I guess I was the only one who knew his name, if Jack Napier even _is_ his name. But where would a file on the Joker be located? I moved to a section beyond the Z's titled 'Other Names.' This was filled with unusual and strange aliases. Then I found it. The Joker.

My hands trembled with nervousness as they pulled out the manila folder. But why was I nervous? Maybe I was scared by what the information inside might hold.

I carried the folder over to the desk and sat in the chair, pulling my hair behind my ears. I opened the folder and started reading.

'He gives no information about himself, not even his name...' 'He'll sit in his cell and stare at the wall for hours, then break out in a fit of laughter...' 'I diagnose him with psychopathy and schizophrenia...' 'When his straightjacket is put on, he does not protest, but rather welcomes it...' 'He mutters things about the woman he kidnaped, Georgina Gordon...'

The last part made my stomach drop. The report didn't say specifically what he said about me, and that scared me shitless. But I shouldn't be surprised. Oh God, I can only imagine the things he'd say. I stood up and placed the folder where it belonged, and closed and locked the file cabinets. Then I ran out of there. What is it with me running from things lately? I think I'm becoming paranoid.

* * *

I made the decision to try to forget the info I found in the Joker. Easier said than done. Like I said before, I involuntarily think about him 24/7. But I tried to push him to the back of my head as I'm diving head-first into an unpredictable new relationship with Bruce Wayne.

Always the one to find any excuse to throw a bangin' party, Bruce decided to set up an elaborate bash for the Gotham City Police Department, celebrating their efforts against crime in the city.

I nervously straightened my hair and applied my make up in Bruce's guest bathroom and hour before the party was scheduled to start. In case you haven't noticed, I'm very awkward in social situations. And mingling with Bruce's richer-than-God-and-better-than-you pals doesn't help the situation.

I finished applying the make up with a swipe of nude lip gloss to compliment my smoky eyes. Then I zipped up the long, flowy black dress with gold beading around the neckline and adjusted the thin straps. After putting on the black high heels, I went into the living where Bruce was telling the party planners where the decorations should go.

When he turned around to see me, his jaw nearly dropped off.

"Wow, George. You look so beautiful."

I smiled and blushed. "Jesus, Bruce. You're making me feel awkward. Are you sure it doesn't look like I'm trying too hard?"

"No, not al all. That dress is perfect for showing off my new girlfriend to everyone." He wrapped an arm around my waist and gave me a peck on the lips.

"Cause there's nothing I love more than being a trophy," I joked. Never the one to enjoy public displays of affection, I tried to remove Bruce's hands from my body. "Come on Bruce, stop making out with me. I don't want to make everyone feel uncomfortable."

"I can't help it," he spoke into my ear, teasing me with his hot breath. I love it when he does that.

Alfred walked by and cleared his throat noisily.

"Hi, Alfred," I said.

"Hello, Miss Gordon. By the way, the guests will be arriving shortly, so you might want to get your hands off each other."

"Will do Alfred," said Bruce.

I traveled over to the bar and poured myself a glass of champagne.

"Oh my God, I need a drink," I said.

Bruce smirked. "Are you _that_ scared?"

"All of your rich friends probably think I'm an asshole. I'll deal with them better when I'm drunk."

He chuckled. "Just don't start any fights."

"I'm Irish, therefore I _have_ to start drunken fights," I said, playing along with his teasing.

* * *

Two hours into the party, I felt pretty good. Mostly because I was buzzed. But it wasn't awkward because I knew a lot of the cops. My dad's been the commissioner for years after all.

I engaged in a little conversation with my dad, my mom, Bruce, and a couple of police officers.

"It's so nice to finally see George happy," My dad said to Bruce.

Bruce smiled humbly. "I do my best, Mr. Gordon. You have a lovely daughter." He grabbed my hand.

"You two are so gay," I joked. "I'm getting another drink. Anybody want anything?"

At that moment a gunshot pierced the air, putting an abrupt end to the jovial conversations of the party goers. People screamed and I turned my head around to find the source of the shot.

When I saw it, I opened my mouth to scream but nothing came out.

"Good evening ladies and gentle-_men_," said the cheerful and menacing voice I knew all too well. " We are...Tonight's... Entertainment!"

His henchmen, wearing clown masks, deployed to different parts of the penthouse, armed and dangerous.

"I only have one question," the Joker announced. "Where is Georgina Gordon?" He shoved a piece of shrimp cocktail in his mouth and washed it down with champagne.

The room remained silent and everyone cowered in fear, not daring to move. I slipped away behind the crowd. Bruce and my dad grabbed my arms.

"Follow us," Bruce whispered.

I obeyed, and they brought me to his bedroom and stashed me in the closet.

"Stay here," my dad said.

And they were both gone.

I could hear the Joker outside the room.

"Do you know where she is? Do _you_ know?" he said. "No."

I silently prayed that I wouldn't be found and that Batman would drive the Joker and his goons out of here. I stared through the crack between the door and the wall, my chest heaving from practically hyperventilating. Then, two goons stormed into the bedroom, searching through every place that could hide a person. I stayed as silent as I could, barely breathing. As if they were dogs who could smell my presence, they tore open the door and pulled me out, dragging me outside.

I flailed my arms and kicked, and managed to break away, running to the other end of the living area, while everyone just stood, not knowing what to do. I don't know why I ran. It's not like it got me very far because I ran right into a couple of the goons. They clutched my arms so tightly that I thought they would break them off.

With his hands behind his back, the Joker strolled over to me nonchalantly.

"Well, well! Don't _we_ look so pretty tonight," he said, circling me like a hawk.

I tried once again to break away from my tight grip.

"Now, now. Don't do that. You'll mess up your hair!" he howled with laughter.

"Let her go!" the familiar gruff voice demanded. My knight in shining black armor.

"Do ya really think I came all the way here leave without her?"

Without hesitation, Batman lunged, knocking the Joker to the ground. The goons dragged me away to the front exit. I turned my head as far back as I could to see what was going on. The two of them were engaged in an epic fight, and the Joker's henchmen joined in on his side. But that was all I could see because as I tried to get away, the butt of a shotgun smacked into my head, plunging me into darkness yet again.


	14. All I Want Is You

**Hey guys, I changed my pen name, just so you know. Thank you to nocoldwater, 123Ekaterina**, **PurgatoryNymphe, DarkHero87, Hushabye, mischieflover, and Greasepaint for your wonderful reviews! =D This chapter just has talking but I promise there will be action in the next one =)**

**The songs used are Ritual by ASHES dIVIDE and All I Want Is You by Staind. Enjoy!**

* * *

I awoke in the same bed in the same bedroom in the same old mansion that the Joker used as his hideout. And I had a throbbing headache courtesy of last night's pistol-whipping. The soft sheets were thoughtfully draped over my body. Aw, thanks so much. I stretched my arms and rubbed the sleep from my eyes and climbed out of the bed, only to realize that I wasn't wearing the dress.

"Oh, you did not," I mumbled, looking down at the purple cami, tight-fitting black hoodie, and dark-wash bootcut jeans that came straight from my apartment. I suddenly felt wide awake at the thought of the Joker undressing me while I was unconscious.

He burst through the door and casually strode toward me.

"I see Sleeping Beauty is awake!" he said.

"Please tell me you didn't change my clothes," I whined, shooting him a disgusted look and rubbing my temples.

He licked his lips and stared me down like a hawk. "You have a very striking body, something a lot of women would kill for. You should flaunt it more often."

I blushed at his compliment, if you could call it that. "You're not used to seeing a woman like that, are you?" I asked.

The grin disappeared from his face. "And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

I bit my lower lip. "Have you ever had a girlfriend before?"

"A girlfriend?" He looked puzzled.

"You know," I said, pacing around. "Someone you cared about. Someone who meant the world to you. Someone you'd take a bullet for. You wouldn't mind walking a thousand miles through a desert or swimming across the ocean if it meant you could see them, even for only an hour."

He howled with laughter, as if my speech was just a stupid joke. "Oh that's a good one! I always thought cha could be a comedian. Put _that_ on a greeting card and sell it!" When he stopped laughing, he said, " And to answer your question, no, I've never had a girlfriend."

I stared at him intently. "So why was I the lucky one?"

"You're, uh, different."

"I'm different?" I questioned.

The Joker sat down on the bed. "We can't help these, uh, feelings we have," he said with a sly smirk.

I took a seat next to him in an attempt to feel less awkward. I've never been great at intimate conversations like this. I usually don't know what to say and then the other person gets all pissy. Strange, considering my occupation as a songwriter.

"I didn't think you were capable of... this," I said, avoiding the dreaded L word. No, not lesbian.

His smile grew even more devilish. "Capable of what?"

I shifted my eyes around. Do not say that word, George. Sigh, it's so hard to form intelligible sentences when I'm under his spell. "Feelings," I muttered.

He slid closer to me, his face only an inch from mine. "I'm capable of a lot of things, toots."

I backed my face away from his. But I didn't want to. I wanted nothing more than to give myself to him, but I knew better than that.

"You're not gonna give up on me, are you?" I asked so quietly, like a shy schoolgirl.

He laughed so abruptly that I almost fell off the bed.

"Didn't you already know that I never give up on something I start?" It sounded like he was mocking me.

I moved off the bed and stood before him, suddenly feeling passion and confidence coursing through my veins.

"I didn't know you were a Southern boy."

He stared at me like I had two heads.

"I mean, you don't have the accent," I continued.

Stare.

I sighed and crossed my arms. "I found the Napier family grave."

"Oh you did?" He seemed amused.

"In the cemetery where I buried my boyfriend, that _you_ killed. Down in the swampland of Southern Louisiana."

He stood up and circled around me. "Hmm, I like it better up here. It's less scorching hot in the summertime."

"June 25, 2001 was the day your life changed forever."

You're very _insightful_. I like that."

I gazed up at him and caught his eyes. "You were only sixteen. I can't imagine losing my family at that age."

"Well they're dead and gone, sweets. Can't bring 'em back."

"I hate that you're at ease about it. Jack wouldn't be."

His demeanor switched from playful to angry. "Hate to break it to ya, toots, but Jackie boy's gone. Ya had your chance to claim him as your own, but cha didn't!"

I started to feel emotional. Fuck, George, don't lose it in front of him.

"I know he's still there. You can bring him back!" I felt tears brimming in my eyes and they blurred my vision.

"What, ya don't like _me_?" He gestured to himself. "You want boring, old Jack?"

"Don't you understand? Jack's charming, he knows right from wrong, he's a good person!" The tears fell down and my voice grew louder, more impassioned.

"Now, now!" he laughed. "Don't lose yourself!"

I couldn't take anymore of his belittling and game-playing. "Bring back the man I love!" I shouted.

Oh shit.

I clamped my hands over my mouth, staring wide-eyed. Did I just seriously say that out loud?

The smile re-appeared on the Joker's face and he cackled like I've never heard him cackle before.

"You've finally cracked! I know you've been wanting to say that for years!"

I removed my hands from my mouth. "No! I, uh," I stuttered. "Didn't say anything!" I knew there was no use in trying to convince him otherwise. I spilled the beans and he knew it.

"You're so cute when you make a fool of yourself!" he said after a minute when he finished laughing.

I felt my face blushing bright red. I sat on the bed and smacked my hand to my warm forehead, feeling ready to pass out. "I'm not making a fool of my-"

I was cut off by the sensation of his lips suddenly pressed onto mine. Then he broke them off to take a seat next to me, but his countenance was still dangerously close to mine. His leather-gloved hands touched my neck and he kissed me again, this time much deeper. My hands gripped onto his back and my heart fluttered with delight, taking I as much of this as I could. I knew it was wrong, oh-so wrong, but I couldn't stop. Logic told me to end this kiss but my heart said 'fuck you' to that. And so it continued, because the heart wins every battle. His tongue slithered into my mouth and I welcomed it.

He ended the kiss sometime later. I didn't know when, I lost track of time in that moment.

"Come on, toots," he said, standing up, grabbing my hand taking me with him, eager to leave. "We have to make some chaos!"

Normally, I'd be stressing about that 'chaos.' But in this case, I wasn't. I finally thought about Bruce, feeling a sharp pang of guilt. How could I do that to him? During the kiss, I didn't even think about him. All of my thoughts were in a haze and I was lost. I felt like I was running through some bizarre, Alice In Wonderland-type dreamworld. It seemed like a lost my mind.


	15. It's the End of the World

**Yay! Heath won the Oscar! =D Anyways, thank you to 123Ekaterina, PurgatoryNymphe, nocoldwater, and DarkHero87 for your lovely reviews!**

**The songs used are Choke by Hybrid and City by Hollywood Undead. I wove in some of the lyrics in the chapter, so you should listen to them. If you can guess which ones I used, then y'all get a cookie (metaphorical of course, as I cannot give you a cookie over the Internet :X) Happy Reading!**

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"Since you're in love with me," he said, sliding the back door open. "We can be just like Bonnie and Clyde!"

He shoved me inside and I tripped, falling and almost landing on my face. Two of his droogs, Sparky and Joe were sitting in the back, but they didn't try to help me or anything. How nice of them.

I found a spot to sit in a corner and brought my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. The Joker climbed in the driver's seat, next to Bob who sat in the passenger's side, put the car in drive, and sped off into the young night. Our destination was unknown to me, and I knew I shouldn't ask.

I stared out the windshield to see where we were going. The lights and cars and buildings told me that we were downtown. Then I caught the Joker glaring at me through the rear-view mirror, his eyes narrowed like a predator about to kill. Remember when I told you how afraid and paranoid I was back in that graveyard? Well that look he shot me was so much more terrifying.

My entire body shook with a big chill. But I couldn't look away. My breath caught in my throat and everything around me disappeared. It was only when he shifted his attention back on the road ahead that I finally regained my self-awareness. I shook my head in a failed attempt to get those deadly eyes out of my mind.

* * *

The van stopped and the Joker got out. He opened the door and Sparky and Joe grabbed me and pushed me out. My hands latched onto the lapels of the Joker's jacket to prevent myself from falling. He took hold of my arms, breaking my fall. This brought my face dangerously close to his and I gazed into his eyes, my entire body paralyzed.

He smiled widely and let go of my arms but roughly grabbed my wrist and walked me around the car. We were parked at a dock overlooking the harbor and skyline of Gotham City. As the sky grew darker, the buildings lit up, looking like bars of steel encrusted with gemstones.

The Joker brought me close to the edge of the dock, and stood behind me, snaking his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder and sniffing my hair.

"Hmm," he mused into my ear. "The city looks so pretty! Do ya wanna burn it with me?"

I stared out into Gotham. My home. The one place where I felt accepted, where I can be myself.

"No," I said.

"No?!" His voice rang with mock hurt. "But look at it! Burn, the city is too bright!"

He took my hands and lifted my arms up, the wind whipping through my hair, looking like that scene from Titanic. "Let's watch this city burn. From the skylines on top of the world. Till there's nothing left in her. Let's watch this city burn the world. We'll use the trees as torches. Fill the streets with corpses. We'll watch the city fucking bleed, and bring the world to it's knees." His voice was barely a whisper, deep and menacing. Evil.

I sighed. "Don't you ever get tired of fucking this place up?"

He angrily turned my body to face him. "You don't understand! None of you Gothamites do! You're offered so much in life but cha take it all for granted." He stopped to analyze the expression on my face.

I was livid.

"They way you all go about your lives miserably and pointlessly is what gives _me_ a purpose," he continued. "You should all face the music when chaos is instilled. 'Cause it's gonna be here for a very long time!"

"Do you get off on destroying lives?" I said, my voice shaky with rage. "Because _your's_ was?"

He laughed. "Very philosophical you are! You don't waste any time cutting right through to the bone." He slapped my cheek hard.

Tears formed in my eyes at the sensation of the stinging pain, but I refused to let them fall. I don't want to be the weakling again. I bit my lip and stayed strong.

"Now this was fun and all," he said, yanking me by the arm and trudging back towards the van. "But we really need to get going 'cause I have some fun planned for us!"

* * *

He pulled into an empty parking lot in an abandoned section of the city. The Joker swiftly leapt out of the driver's side and opened the back door, pulling me out.

"Come with me," he cooed.

Instead of holding me by the arm or wrist, he held my hand, his purple gloved fingers filled the spaces in between mine. This strange turn of events was frightening.

I took the time to notice my surroundings and boy was it bleak. The roads were aged, cracked gravel. The buildings looked like they should have been condemned, like they hadn't been used in years. And there were no sources of light, not even a random streetlight that could be symbolized as a higher power bursting through the darkness. Thank God the moon was out, shining brightly because it was full only a few nights ago.

I tried to pull my hand away, but he wouldn't allow it. "Where are you taking me?" I asked.

He thoughtfully down at my face. "Ya look nervous!"

"I'm not nervous. I'm just losing my fucking mind all thanks to you!"

He laughed that ear-piercing laugh. "We're not doin' anything bad... Yet."

He stopped behind what appeared to be an old, double-family house.

"It occurred to me recently," he began. "That even though we've 'hung out' a lot, I haven't had the courtesy to show ya how to use a gun."

"Why would I need to use a gun?" I asked skeptically. But I think I already knew the answer.

He shrieked with laughter. "So blonde, so dumb."

From his jacket pocket, the Joker pulled out a small handgun, spun it around in his hand like he thought he was Clint Eastwood or something in a Western, and shoved it in my hand.

"Don't worry. I'm gonna teach ya how to use it," he said.

"Aren't you afraid that I'll turn it on you?" I knew I'd never do that.

He just laughed it off, probably sensing that I indeed wouldn't do that. He took the safety off and got behind me, extended my arms out, and brought both of my hands to the weapon.

"Now I want cha to shoot right through that middle window," he said into my ear.

My hands shook and my palms went sweaty. I've never shot a gun before and I didn't really want to. But I guess I had no choice now, right? I focused on that window ten yards away, feeling the Joker's breath on my neck, and pulled the trigger. In a split second, the deafening sound tore through the night and shattered the window. The force of the gunshot caused me to fall backwards, but he still clutched onto me. What a gentleman.

"You've got quite the aim!" he exclaimed.

"Uh, thanks? I think," I said.

* * *

I fired the gun a few more times and my aim became less shaky.

"Perfect," he purred. "Now you're ready for part two of our super fun night!"


	16. The Robbery

**Thank you to mischieflover, DarkHero87, nocoldwater, PurgatoryNymphe, TheJoker'sGotMyHeart, Aspen. LaBeouf, CutieCassie and Greasepaint for your lovely reviews/favorite story adds! The last part of this chapter came to me in a dream (weird!). So enjoy! **

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Bruce flipped on the light switch of his penthouse's guest bathroom, washing it with illumination from the incandescent lightbulbs that lined the top of the mirror. The counter next to the sink was littered with George's beauty essentials: her flat iron, styling cream, hair spray, foundation, mascara, eye shadow, lip gloss, blush, et cetera. Her casual clothes that she changed out of were discarded in a corner next to the shower. Bruce picked up the white tank top that had previously hugged her upper body and brought it to his nose. He could faintly smell her perfume on it.

That was when Bruce knew that he needed to get George back once and for all. The Joker _had_ to go down. It wasn't going to be an easy feat. Especially considering that the Batman had one rule. He could not, under any circumstances, kill.

He drove into the night. His destination was the makeshift Batcave, located in the depths of Wayne Enterprises. One by one, he changed into his necessary armor: the boots, the chest piece, the cape, the mask, and the list goes on. The stoic and determined Batman climbed into his Batmobile and waited until it ascended up to the earth. The Caped Crusader was prepared to fight yet another night.

* * *

After the Joker's little guns 101 lesson, he threw me back into the van and drove to his 'house.' When we got there, he pulled me out of the vehicle, business as usual, dragged me up the front steps and brought me inside the mansion.

"You're gonna wear these tonight!" he said, gesturing to some articles of clothing sitting on the couch.

I picked them up, my stomach feeling uneasy. "You've got to be kidding," I said. In my hands were a black blouse with three-quarter length sleeves and tight, black leather pants. Shudder. Resting on the floor were a pair of black, leather stiletto boots. I looked up at the Joker in disgust and crossed my arms. "Leather chafes, you asshole."

He merely laughed that off. "Not my problem, toots."

"I'm not wearing these," I sated.

"Oh yes you are!" He scooped up the clothes, grabbed my arm and pushed me inside a closet next to the staircase. "Now get changed!" He slammed the door in my face.

In a huff, I removed my clothes and pulled the black shirt over my head. Easy enough. Then came those lovely pants. I grimaced as I struggled to get them over my thighs and button them at the hips, the material making these annoying little squeaking sounds. Who's brilliant idea was it to make leather pants anyway? Last but not least came the boots, which I zipped up over the pants. They weren't really that uncomfortable. I've worn these kinds of shoes on tour.

I patted the sweat off my brow and left the closet. That sounds kind of funny, doesn't it? I felt the Joker's burning into me, as if he could see right through these hideous dominatrix pants.

"Now you're lookin' _real_ good," he said with a lick of his lips. "You can definitely pass of as a member of my team."

Oh, there's nothing I'd love more than that.

I crossed my arms, trying to cover myself as best I could. "These pants suck, you know that?" I said, the bitterness spilling off my tongue.

"I'd imagine they would!" He held up a black belt. "Put this on."

He threw it at me and I caught it, slipped it through the belt loops, and buckled it. I noticed that there was a holster on the side, a holster for a gun. Fucking great.

He sighed. "No more time for dilly-dallying. We have to get going!"

Once again, we were out of the house and into the van, driving off into the Gotham night.

* * *

The Joker pulled up in front of some dilapidated building in the seedy Narrows neighborhood. Once again, he yanked me out the door and produced the same gun from earlier from his coat pocket and jammed it in the holster on my belt.

"Let's try not to shoot ourselves in the leg, okay?" he said, taking off the safety.

His goons snuck up near the front door, their guns in hand. The Joker clutched onto some unnecessarily large shotgun and crept up to the door. I ran to catch up with him.

"There's no way I'm gonna shoot someone," I said.

"You're gonna do what I tell ya to!" he replied.

"You're not making me do that."

He sighed. "You can never agree to anything can ya? Let me put it this way: If someone tries to kill ya, wouldn't cha defend yourself?"

"Can't argue with that logic, I guess. So why are we here?"

"To take something back from Maroni's people." He kicked the door open and waltzed inside.

Take what back?"

"You'll see!" he mused. That tone in his voice never meant anything good.

We walked down the hallway that was lit by harsh, overhead fluorescent lights, and the place smelled of mold. As if having a sixth sense, the Joker kicked open a closed door, sending him and his goons inside. There were four men just chilling there, but scared shitless at coming face to face to the Clown Prince of Crime. The goons pointed their weapons at the mobsters and demanded that they stand up.

"Where is it?" the Joker nonchalantly asked the men.

"Wh-where's what?" one of them replied.

The Joker let out a giggle. "The money of course!"

"What money?" another mobster asked. Joe fired his gun at him and the man slumped to the floor, dead.

"You wanna talk now?" said the Joker, his voice practically an angry growl.

"It's all in the basement! Please let us go!" the first man pleaded.

The Joker smirked. "Thank you," he said, and then he shot the man three times in the chest. He fell to the floor. The other two were finished off as well.

I followed the Joker out of the room and down the hallway to a flight of stairs that led to the basement.

"What the fuck was that?" I yelled. "That guy told you where that money was but you shot him anyways!"

"It's not like he deserved to live!"

"What they say about you is right."

"Oh, and what's that?"

"That you have no reason behind your motives. I have more respect for the mob because at least they fight for honor and their family name."

We walked down the stairs and he busted open the door to the basement.

"But that's the thing, toots. I'm not lookin' for respect and I don't need it. Especially from _you_."

In the dim light, I could make out numerous duffel bags sitting on the floor. The Joker zipped a few open, revealing stacks of cold, hard cash inside.

He slipped a bag over each shoulder. "Make yourself useful and take one," he said to me.

I obeyed and put the strap over my shoulder, but almost fell over because it was so heavy. There must have been tens of thousands of dollars in there. I followed the goons up the stairs and down the hall, assuming that we were loading the money in the van. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man. I turned my head and noticed that he had a gun pointed right at me. In a flash, I dropped the duffel bag of cash and reached for the gun on my belt, remembering what the Joker said about defending myself.

"Don't you do anything you might regret, sweetheart," he said.

"I don't think I'll regret it," I said, my finger on the trigger, ready to shoot.

At that moment, two other men came out of nowhere and tackled me to the ground. My face smashed onto the floor and the gun fell out of my hand.

I screamed as loud as I could. "Let me go!"

I felt my wrists being tied together and I tried to get away, but I was held down. The men pulled me up to my feet and started to walk me towards the back of the building.

"I said let me go!" I shouted.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch!" one of the men said.

"Fuck you!"

What I thought was the butt of a gun slammed into my temple and I dozed off into unconsciousness.

In this predicament, I couldn't help but think about one thing.

Where was Jack?


	17. It's Those Damn Voices!

**Thank you to 123Ekaterina, PurgatoryNymphe, DarkHero87, nocoldwater, and mischieflover for your awesome reviews =D Here's chapter 17!**

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I awoke slowly, feeling as though I'd been hit by a truck. My eyes adjusted to my surroundings and I tried to stand up but I was unable to. I looked down at my lap. I was tied to a chair. Oh, that's just awesome. My arms wrapped around the back and my wrists were tied together. Oh yeah, a piece of duct tape was slapped over my mouth.

My eyes shifted around the room I was trapped in. It was smelly, empty, and lit by a single lightbulb that hung from a chain suspended from the ceiling. A door on the other side of the room opened and a man walked in, but I couldn't make out who it was.

Sal Maroni, dressed in a gay-looking gray suit, stepped into the light. He knelt and stared at me, a kind of curious yet malevolent look on his face. He ripped the silver tape from my lips. Jesus, that stung.

"What the fuck do you want from me!" I cried.

He dodged my question. "Aren't you glad to finally get away from the Joker?"

I looked at him with bewilderment. "Is that a trick question? Because _this_ isn't exactly an upgrade."

"I can see why he's so obsessed with you. You've got spunk. And that can either help you or it can be your downfall."

"I didn't think you kidnapped young women. I thought you just controlled the entire police force and knocked off worthless pieces of scum."

"You know," he began, " I have a daughter who's almost your age. And I'd be worried if she spent her time associating with certain people."

I scoffed. "And _your_ people are good news?" I sarcastically asked.

"I'm talking about the Joker and Batman." He leaned in closer to me.

"Well, it's not like I'm willingly hanging out with the Joker."

Maroni paced around me. "Have you ever wondered what her would do if you were no longer around to keep him company?"

"No?" At that moment. My confusion subsided and everything became crystal clear. I knew what Maroni had planned.

He was going to kill me.

"Well, _I've_ thought about it. And I'd like to see what the outcome is." His voice was menacing. "I'll leave you to your thoughts." He left the room.

My heart raced and I started to hyperventilate. I knew for a fact that the Joker would never kill me. In some strange way, I felt protected around him. But in Maroni's hands, I'd be more dead than Scott Baio's career.

I tried to lift my arms, but what good did that do? They were still tied to the chair, and so were my ankles. I cried as I my impending doom ran over and over in my mind. I could only imagine the horrible things Maroni and his band of criminals would inflict on me. That certainly didn't help my fragile state of mind because my body started to shake uncontrollably and my face became drenched with tears.

Where was Jack? Where the hell was he?!

Wait a minute. How come I'm not longing for Bruce to save me right now?

"It's alright, George. I'm right here," a voice spoke. "Maroni won't hurt you."

Caught off guard, I turned my head from side to side to find that voice. "Who-who's there? Who are you?" I asked.

I heard a short laugh. "Silly! You know who it is!"

Of course I did. I could pick out that one voice out of a cacophony of others.

"Jack?" I asked, short of breath.

"The one and only!"

"Where are you? I can't see you." If it was possible, my heart beat even faster.

"I'm everywhere. Just look around you. Even though I'm not physically here, you still see me everywhere you go. I'm that voice that you can't get out of your pretty little head."

Oh my God. I'm losing it.

"Wait a minute," I said. "You're not really here?"

"Did you not just hear me?"

I sighed. "Please tell me I'm not slowly going insane like you."

The voice chuckled again. "I'm not insane! Just, um, different from everyone else."

"That's the understatement of the century," I sarcastically spoke.

"Well this was fun and all, but I have to go. So see ya!"

"Wait! Come back! Don't leave me here!"

The door creaked open and menacing laughter filled the room.

"Who are you talking to?" said a very amused Joker.

Don't you hate getting mind-fucked? Because _I_ do.

"I was talking to _you_," I said, confused. "Or at least I _thought_ I was."

He came into the light. And no, he wasn't Jack.

"Um, I just got here."

"No you didn't! You were here, I heard you!"

He whipped out his switchblade and cut the rope that tied me down.

"Oh that's adorable! You're hearing voices that aren't really there!"

"You asshole! This all your fault!"

"How so?" he said, faking interest.

"All this time I spent with you did a number on my fucking sanity." I stood up but I almost fell down because my body was in so much pain. But thankfully, the Joker caught me.

"You're not being very appreciative of my services. I came all this way to find you and _this_ is how you treat me?"

"Knock it off. You're a terrible actor, you know that?"

"Alright, enough lollygagging. Let's get outta here!" With one swift motion, the Joker swooped me up bridal style and made his way to the door.

"Put me down!" I protested, trying to push myself away from him.

"Sorry! I can't do that. You're in no condition to walk, toots."

He busted through the door and ran down a hallway that was so dark, it was dangerous. He opened another door that led us outside. Oh yeah, and I was still trapped in his arms.

"That was almost too easy," I said.

Right at that moment, shots were fired our way. One bullet grazed the back of my head.

"I guess I shouldn't have said that!" I yelled.

In a quick second, the Joker pulled out his gun and returned fire. I looked back and saw three men fall to the ground.

He set me down. "Think you can walk now?" he asked.

"Of course I can," I shot back.

"Good, cause you're gonna have to run!"

"What? That makes no sense!"

He took off running, leaving me in his dust. I hesitated for a moment. "Aw, shit!" I said, and ran as fast as I could to catch up with him.

I followed him as he rounded the corner of the building. His van was waiting for us. I knew the drill, so I slid open the back door and rushed inside.

What I noticed inside really caught me off guard.

"Oh, you wanna know what it is? Well, you'll have to wait for the next chapter!


	18. Crash

**Hello everyone! I'm back from the dead! Sorry about that, I've just been really busy lately. Anyways, thank you to DarkHero87, nocoldwater, mischieflover, and PurgatoryNymphe for your lovely reviews. Enjoy chapter 18! :)**

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_One may smile, and smile, and be a villain-Hamlet, Act II, Scene I_

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Nothing could prepare me for what sat in the back of the van. I thought I was going crazy, Like I had previously mentioned, so I blinked to make sure it was really there.

Two young adults, a boy and a girl, were tied together in a corner with duct tape over their mouths. The girl was obviously afraid for her life, she was crying. The boy was trying his best to hold it together. When they saw me, their eyes lit up. Perhaps they recognized me?

I turned to catch the Joker's eyes in the rearview mirror, befuddled by these sudden hostages. In the whole time I've known of his criminal existence, I was the only prisoner. He saw me staring at him and smiled wickedly.

I turned my attention back to the kids. "Stay on his good side and he won't hurt you." I tried to sound as kind as possible without saying too much.

The boy nodded and the girl squeezed her eyes closed and sobbed some more.

The van came to a halt in front of the Joker's hideout. Bob and Joe pulled the hostages from the car and I ran to the Joker to confront him.

"What do you think you're doing with them?" I angrily asked.

"What does it look like, sweetheart?" he sarcastically replied.

"Uh, it looks like you kidnapped two very frightened kids," I shot back.

"Way to hit the nail on the head. Anyways, why do you care?" he teased.

"I just find it strange that all of a sudden, you decide to fuck up two _more_ lives. I thought I was the only lucky one."

"Hmm, do I detect some jealousy? Are you worried that I'm gonna replace you?"

"It's not that! You said, well, Jack said that you wanted to change. Doing this definitely won't help that cause."

"Don't tell me what I should be doing!" he snapped.

He grabbed my arm, dragged me inside the rotting, old mansion, and shoved me in a dark room.

"Don't even think about leaving this room!" he hissed before slamming the door.

Much to my surprise, the two hostages, free of the tape and rope that bound them, were already inside, seated on the floor.

"You're George Gordon!" the boy said, wide-eyed in amazement.

"That's me." I blushed a little, taking a seat beside them. I don't think I'll ever fathom people being star-struck by _me. _

"Wow! I'm such a huge fan of your band," He stated, giggling awkwardly like a preteen boy who just got his first hard-on during an inconvenient time.

I smiled warmly. "Thank you. What's your name?"

"Uh, I'm Connor and this is my sister Alicia."

"Hi," the girl named Alicia said weakly, pushing a lock of golden hair away from her sweaty, bronzer-coated face.

"So, how old are you guys?" I asked, trying to keep up a conversation so these two wouldn't start to worry.

"I'm nineteen," said Alicia.

"And I'm sixteen," said Connor.

Are you guys in school?"

"Yeah I'm a sophomore at UGOTH," she said. UGOTH is the University of Gotham and I studied there for a year after high school.

"I'm a junior at Thompson High School," he said.

I smiled again. "Weird. I went to both of those places." Weird, indeed.

"I know," Connor said, trying not to sound awkward. "You're one of Thompson's most famous residents. Not trying to sound creepy or anything."

"Don't worry about it. There aren't really that many famous people from there anyway."

"Does he always treat you like that?" Alicia inquired, her voice sounding grim.

It took me a moment to realize that she was referring to the Joker. "Sometimes, but it's complicated..." My voice trailed off. "But I don't think he'll do anything to you two unless he develops some crazy obsession," I chuckled, trying to keep the mood light.

"Well I hope he isn't obsessed with _me_, because that'll just be weird," Connor joked.

Alicia rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Does he make you wear that?" Connor asked, noting my leather pants and stiletto boots.

"Oh this?" I said, looking down at my outfit. "Yeah. I would never willingly put this on."

The Joker busted through the door and entered the room, that sick permanent grin engraved on his face.

"Come on, get up. We're gonna have some fun!" he said.

Alicia, Connor, and I stood up from the floor. The Joker placed his hand on the small of Alicia's back and said "Let's go beautiful," with a lick of his red lips. He completely ignored me.

I raised an eyebrow, slightly irritated, but only because he was making her nervous. I didn't worry too much.

The Joker brought us back to the van. I knew what I had to do, so I hopped in the back. Connor and Alicia followed me. The goons were already inside, so the Joker started up the engine and drove away.

He drove around downtown Gotham, pulled out one of his many guns, and fired randomly out the window. The bullets bounced off metal street signs and streetlights, creating little flashes of light, pierced through cars and windows, and even hit innocent bystanders. Poor Connor and Alicia looked so alarmed.

"This is his idea of _fun_?" Connor asked anxiously over the hail of gunfire.

I turned to face the Joker, who had his head hanging out of his window while steering. I didn't care if he carelessly crashed the van. I had so many more important things to worry about. Like getting this brother and sister duo to safety, staying the hell away from the Joker and Maroni, and running into Bruce's protective arms.

"Trust me, this isn't the full extent of it."

Alicia had her ears covered with her hands. "That's good news," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

We ended up in a less-populous area of the city. The Joker took a too-sharp corner and crashed the front end of the van into the window of a store that was closed for the night. Not purposefully, of course. The deafening sound of shattering glass filled my ears and those of us who were not sitting in a seat were tossed around like rag dolls. The back of my head smacked against the metal wall.

Bob and the Joker, who both sat in the front, struggled against their airbags.

"Everyone get out!" the Joker commanded. He pushed his door open and it almost fell off it's hinges.

I rubbed the huge bump on my head that was inevitably going to form.

Alicia and Connor looked confused.

"What?" I asked, dazed. "What will you do about the car?"

He ran around the van and slid the door open. "Leave it. I can get another one!" he cheerfully stated. "Now out you go!"

I stumbled out of the van and Alicia and Connor followed suit.

The Joker and his goons started running. "Here's where the _real_ fun begins," I said bleakly to my two new friends.


	19. The Wind Blows

**Sorry I left you guys hanging for a month, that was really shitty of me. I've just been wicked busy but now that I'm done with school (yes!!!!), I'll have more time to update. I think the next chapter will be the last, though. The song used in this chapter is the Wind Blows by the All-American Rejects. Anyways, thank you to mischieflover, nocoldwater, 123Ekaterina, Greasepaint, and PurgatoryNymphe for your lovely reviews. Enjoy chapter 9! **

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Connor, Alicia, and I took off to catch up with the Joker and his minions, who were almost out of our sight. I didn't know where we were, but the Joker didn't seem to care. He howled with laughter, almost like a wolf during a full moon, loving it when the wind whipped through his green hair and at his makeup-smeared face.

I didn't even know why he felt the need to run. We weren't being chased. In fact, no one was around in that empty area of the city. It was like a ghost town.

The Joker and his goons turned and entered a garage. I looked up and read the fading sign outside. We were at an auto body.

"Is he going to steal a car or something?" Connor joked.

I looked at him with astonishment and concern. "Actually, yes," I replied, stepping inside. The smell of motor oil filled the air.

"This is the one!" the Joker exclaimed from the other side of the garage, examining a black van.

I felt the need to let the pent-up sarcastic attitude run loose. "If it's in the shop, then it's probably broken."

"Nope. Looks good to me, toots," he said. "Everyone get in!"

I groaned. Mostly because of the throbbing pain in my head that I sustained from getting slammed against the wall of the now totaled van.

"I don't wanna hear ya protesting. Now get in!"

I reluctantly obeyed, as did Connor and Alicia.

Just as my foot stepped down inside the van, a stern, steady voice ripped through the dark.

"Drop any weapons, put your hands in the air, and don't move!" it spoke.

A large group of armed police officers and SWAT teams emerged from the black darkness. They had their guns aimed towards us, but not at the two siblings and I. You know who they were looking for.

I didn't have the time to react before one of the cops grabbed my arm and pulled me to safety. I whipped my head around to see what happened to Connor and Alicia. They had also been dragged away.

"I see you fellas came to play!" the Joker announced, pulling out his gun. His goons followed suit. You don't really expect him to give up, do you?

"Put the guns down or we _will_ shoot!" one of the cops shouted.

The Joker cackled. "You guys _really_ need to get some new lines. I've heard that one how many times?"

And then the shots rang out. Several cops were hit, but the wounds didn't appear fatal. Then, in a strange turn of events, the Joker and his henchmen were all shot. I screamed out in horror as as Joe and Sparky fell to the concrete floor, while the SWAT's tackled Bob and the Joker, like a football play gone terribly wrong.

I lunged, attempting to run out to help the Joker, but the cop who held me prevented that. Look at how crazy I've gone! First I hear his voice in my head, then I try to rescue him, from a SWAT team no less.

It seemed like forever, but the police wrangled the Joker and Bob in a short amount of time. Sparky and Joe died instantly. Although he had been writhing in pain on the floor, the Joker managed to shoot me a look as Connor, Alicia, and I were led away. I was unable to describe it. It was a mixture of defeat, pleading, and burning rage. A chill ran up my spine, yet I felt piteous for him, for Jack.

* * *

I opened up my living room window, letting the warm yet cool spring breeze rush inside. It had been seven months since I last saw him. I didn't hear a thing about him after he got locked up in Arkham for what seemed like the one-millionth time. Perhaps it was because he was the only one left standing, as Bob, the last of his henchmen, had perished a few hours after being shot that night. That made no sense, though. Nothing, and I repeat, nothing holds the Joker back.

But maybe one thing does.

The fact that I didn't give him the strange, crazy love that he bestowed on me.

I suppose it didn't matter, though. You can't teach an old dog new tricks, right? He had no hope for change. He would just revert back to his old, psycho, mass-murdering ways. Even if he tried his hardest, it wouldn't matter. He was damaged beyond repair.

That was what my head told me. My heart, however, thought differently.

But none of that is important because I'm happy with Bruce. That's right, Bruce and I are still going strong, even stronger as each day comes and fades away. He has become a part of me and I'm so desperately in love with him. Not only is he my lover (I feel so stupid referring to someone as my "lover"), but he is also my friend, my confidant, my source of strength. He is helping me heal. I'm even looking past that whole Mike situation, which is a terrible thing to say but I guess that means I wasn't in love with him the way I thought I was.

This doesn't mean that I never think about Jack. Because I sure as hell do. Way too much for a woman in a healthy relationship. During the long winter, I often found myself wondering if he was warm enough during those bitter cold days. You know how those old, poorly-insulated buildings are. And at night, when I turned off the light and my head hit the pillow, he kept racing through my thoughts, and I always wondered if I did the same to him.

* * *

The next evening, I threw on a Gotham Goliaths t-shirt and baseball hat because Bruce surprised me with tickets to a home game. He isn't a huge fan of sports, but nothing says spring like going to a baseball game. He even sat patiently as I yelled at all the horrible plays. After the game, we got ice cream at one of those nostalgic Fifties-style diners and went for a stroll along the pier, near an old shipyard, where almost no one else was around.

"It's kind of chilly tonight, huh?" I said, rubbing my bare arms. I was too stupid to cover up.

"Want my jacket?" Bruce offered.

I looked at him sweetly. "But you'll freeze."

He removed his jacket and placed it over my shoulders. Then he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him. "I'll be fine," he whispered before closing the gap between us by planting his soft lips on mine. God, I just love the way he kissed. And he always smelled so amazing too. That is what they mean when they say live in the moment.

I broke off the kiss with a smile on my face.

"Oh come on," he teased. "I wasn't done yet."

"You know my stance on sucking face in public." I gave him a lingering gaze and sauntered over to a bench, which was right on the edge of the water, and sat down.

"Then why did I get you all liquored up?" he joked.

"Didn't you know that I can hold my booze like a gentleman?"

"A petite little blonde thing like you? I'm not buying it."

"I've had years of practice." I noticed his feet were dangerously close to the edge. "Bruce, you're way too close to the water, get back!"

Too late. He stumbled backwards and fell into the dark harbor with a splash. Luckily though, the drop wasn't very far, so I grabbed his hand and pulled him up with all my strength.

Once I heaved him up over the edge, I laughed even harder than I already was. "You're lucky that was a short drop or you would have been fucked."

He smiled sheepishly and slicked his hair back. Ignoring my comment, he pulled something small from his pocket and dropped down on one knee. Here it comes.

"That wasn't how I planned on doing this, but I'll do it anyways," he said, then opened the small, velvety black box in hand. Inside was a gorgeous marquis-cut diamond set in a platinum ring. "Will you marry me, Georgina Gordon?"

My mouth flew open and tears came to my eyes. Stupid, I know. But here he was, soaking wet, proposing to me with a diamond stunner that could probably pay my rent for a year.

I immediately threw my arms around him, not caring if water seeped through my clothes. "Yes!" I cried out "I love you, Bruce." I kissed him with more passion than ever before.


	20. Temptation

**Hello everyone! Here is the last chapter of I Told You I'd Find You. I want to thank nocoldwater, The Queen of Mean, 123Ekaterina, TheSodaVampire, DarkHero87, PurgatoryNymphe, mischieflover, and everyone else who helped me through this. Seriously, your reviews are so supportive! **

**The songs used in this chapter are Evil Angel by Breaking Benjamin, Sorrow by Flyleaf, One Thing by Finger Eleven, Fall For You by Secondhand Serenade, Untouched by the Veronicas, Save Me by Remy Zero, and Price of Fame by Submersed. Enjoy!**

* * *

"_I've gone crazy from the moment I met you" - Untouched - the Veronicas_

* * *

The bright morning sun that poured through the windows warmed my face and beckoned me to wake up. I'd never felt so refreshed and well rested in my life. I usually woke up groggy and irritated. Maybe it was because of Bruce's pillow-soft bed or maybe it was the sparkling diamond ring that sat on the night stand. I smiled as I recalled the previous night's events. Bruce asked for my hand in marriage and I said yes. I made the notorious playboy, the George Clooney of Gotham City want to settle down.

If you remember Mike proposing months ago, then you probably remember me saying no. And for that, you might call me a hypocrite. I did say that I never wished to be a young bride. I was still uncomfortable with that, but I had to accept Bruce's proposal. I loved him too much to say no.

I rolled over on my side and noticed that the other side of the bed was empty. Bruce walked in carrying a mug of coffee. He set it down on the night stand and took a seat on the bed.

"I was just going to wake you up," he said. "It's almost eleven."

I gave him a sleepy smile. "For me?" I asked, motioning to the coffee mug.

"Just the way you like it. Extra milk, extra sugar."

"You're too good to me, you know that?" I pulled the white sheet over my naked chest as I reached for the mug. Oh yeah, you know what went down the night before.

"I know." He winked and took my hand.

I had a few sips of the coffee but decided that I wasn't ready to get up. "Come back to bed."

"I'm caffeinated, George. I can't fall asleep."

"Then just lay here with me."

He smiled and nodded, then crawled under the sheets and held me close to his warm body, stroking my hair while I drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Two months later, I bought a plane ticket to Louisiana. I told Bruce that I planned on meeting with my band's manager while visiting different recording studios in New Orleans and he believed me. However, that was not the truth. The day that I arrived was June twenty-fifth, the eighth anniversary of the Napier family massacre. I'd go there to leave flowers on their grave.

The plane touched down at Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport. I brought with me only my purse and a carry-on bag because I planned on staying in Louisiana for just one day. I hailed a taxi and traveled the forty five minutes from New Orleans to Houma, the small city where the grave is located. Houma is the seat of Terrebonne Parish, a low-lying, swampy, coastal region in the southeastern portion of the state.

The taxi driver dropped me off at my hotel, a small historic place that reminded me of those buildings in the French Quarter of New Orleans. Once I checked in and threw my bags in my room, I set out to find the cemetery, using only my memory as a reference.

I dabbed the sweat from my forehead and pushed the loose strands of hair from my face and neck. As you might expect, it get's so hot and muggy around that time of year. But I trekked on. The scenery around me revealed exactly how I imagined Louisiana. The houses were over a hundred years old and very well-kept, they looked like dollhouses. The unique cultures of the Cajun and Creole ethnic groups mingled around the town. The bayou that was near the cemetery was lush with greenery that spilled out into the stagnant water. Trees rose up majestically from the swamp, reminiscent of a flood. It could invoke memories of Hurricane Katrina. Houma was hit badly by that. Despite the natural beauty of the bayou, it felt creepy. As if I'd expect ghosts to rise up from the murky water.

A bush of magnolias grew nearby, so I picked a handful of the flowers. The grave was close by. The path I took grew more and more familiar. Finally, I found it. The Napier family grave, where Jack's family rested for eternity underneath a massive, old oak tree. I squatted down to place the flowers in front of the headstone.

When I stood up, I was overcome with sadness. I wiped away at the tears that dripped from my eyes. After that moment, I felt a tickling sensation on the back of my neck. I desperately hoped to God it wasn't the Spanish moss that swung loosely in the wind from the tree branches.

My head turned to face none other than Jack standing next to me, his sorrowful eyes peering into mine. A part of me was in disbelief at his presence, but the other part was not surprised at all. He had a knack for popping up unannounced.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"It's the anniversary," he replied. "I come here every year. What are _you_ doing here?"

I couldn't really form a logical answer. "Paying my respects, same as you." Wow, that sounded ridiculous. "Although it seems a little out of character for you."

"Is it _really_ so shocking? Despite the monster I've become, I've never forgotten my family." His anguished face turned towards the headstone.

I needed to comfort him, so I took his hand in mine. He faced me again.

"I didn't hear about your great escape from Arkham in the news," I said.

A slight grin formed on his mouth. "I've done it so many times that it's no longer a hot story."

His eyes moved down to my hand that he held on to and he abruptly went stiff. He jerked it up to closely inspect it. He finally noticed the ring.

"Oh God," he cried out, squeezing his eyes shut, as if he could block out the sight before him. "When did this happen?"

I yanked my hand away. "A couple of months ago."

He slapped a hand across his forehead and closed his eyes again. "Who is he?"

I looked away and let out a sigh, remaining silent.

"Who is he?" Jack repeated, this time with more force.

"Bruce Wayne."

"Of course it's him," he replied with sarcasm.

"Don't you get all bitchy. You aren't exactly boyfriend material."

His eyes burned with rage and jealousy. Ready to fight me. "Does he treat you like a queen?"

I stood my ground. "As a matter of fact, he does."

"I'm so sorry that I can't buy you diamond necklaces and take you to Paris on a private jet and bring you to every exclusive party in Gotham."

"Do you really think I'm materialistic like that? Because you claim to know me _so_ well."

He didn't respond. Instead, he stared deep into my eyes and kissed me. The awful part was that I didn't stop it. I wrapped my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, leaving no space between us. He thrust his tongue into my mouth but I cut him off.

"Wait," I said, gasping for air. I had to say this and once I did, there was no going back. "Come with me to my hotel room."

He smiled. That was all I needed. I grabbed his hand and we practically ran out of that cemetery.

When we arrived at my room, we didn't hesitate to "get it on." I dropped my purse on the floor and led Jack to the bed. I took the sides of his head in my hands and kissed him while he slowly lowered me onto the bed. We kicked off our shoes and I took off his t-shirt, witnessing his beautifully sculpted torso for the first time. I couldn't resist running my fingertips across his back and planting small pecks on his chest. He smelled so delicious, like musk and sandalwood.

"Do you really want to do this?" he asked. His voice was full of reason for the first time.

I gazed into his eyes. "Yes, so much. You don't know how long I waited." My voice was breathless. I knew I shouldn't do this. I knew it was morally wrong, but temptation got the best of me.

He responded by kissing, then sucking on my neck, as if it was sweet like candy. I tilted my head to the side, shut my eyes, and quietly moaned in pleasure. His fingers pulled up the hem of my tank top and they lightly grazed my skin. A surge of electricity ran through my entire body at the sensation of his touch. He lifted my top over my head and discarded it on the floor. My heart pounded inside my chest. I needed more of him.

My hands unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, sliding them off, revealing his tanned legs sprouting from his boxer shorts. My fingers raked through his hair and my mouth left kisses on his jaw line and neck. Our breathing became heavier as each piece of clothing was strewn across the floor. Jack's hands reached around my back and unhooked my bra. It fell off with a graceful motion. Hungering for more, he undid my jeans and threw them away.

"You're so beautiful," he breathed. He turned over the laid me down on my back and climbed on top of me. I was panting, ready to go, ready to release all this built-up tension. He flashed that devilish grin of his and went straight to work.

* * *

It wasn't until after that the reality of my actions hit me. I cheated. I was one of those filthy cheaters who think it's okay to fuck someone while they're with someone else. But I won't lie to you. What happened just a few minutes earlier was too amazing to put into words. It was a beautiful thing, an undescribable event that I didn't experience before.

Still, I remained down to earth.

"You need to leave," I said, still in bed, laying on my side, avoiding Jack's face at all costs.

"Why? You were so eager to bring me here."

"I can't be doing this. I have a commitment to someone else." My ring stared up at me, disapproving.

Jack grabbed my shoulder and pushed me down to my back, forcing me to look at him.

"Well, you already did it. You can't go back and erase it," he said. "You know you don't want to be with him."

"I don't know what I want, Jack." That was the honest truth.

"George, I love you. I can't live without you. I can't be normal without you." As cheesy as that sounded, it broke my heart.

I looked away from his hurt eyes. Mine filled with tears. "Please leave," I croaked. "Please."

He hesitated for a moment but got up and threw his clothes on. "I'll always be around." Then he left.

When I was sure he was gone, I sobbed like an over dramatic teenager.

* * *

Back home in Gotham, I was more of a wreck than before. I couldn't tell Bruce what I did. I just couldn't. It would be unfair considering everything that he has done for me. Still, keeping that secret from him wasn't fair either. Nor was the fact that I'd leave him for Jack. I had to do it sooner rather than later.

It took place outside, a block away from my apartment building. It was Friday at dusk and the streets were filled with people. It would be less awkward that way. I instructed him to meet me at a bench in the nearest park.

I was already there, bracing myself for the worst when Bruce approached me.

"What's going on, honey? You sounded upset over the phone," he said, while taking a seat next me.

Looking at his concerned visage shattered my heart made me lose my cool. I started to cry. "Bruce," I said. "I can't marry you."

"I knew I asked too soon. We can hold off until you're ready," he offered.

"It's not that. I can't be with you, period."

He was confused.

I decided I might as well tell him the truth. "There's someone else."

He looked as though all of his hopes and dreams had disappeared. "What?"

I slipped the ring off my finger and dropped in his hand. "I love you, Bruce. Don't think that isn't true. You'll make some lucky woman so happy one day. But it can't be me." I stood up and prepared to leave.

He grabbed my hand. "Please don't go, George," he pleaded. "I don't want anyone but you."

"I'm sorry. Please don't call me." My voice was barely above a whisper, it cracked through the sobs. I walked away and his hand slipped away from mine forever.

I left the park and tried to stop the tears so no one would give me weird glares. Why was breaking up with Bruce so hard? I felt like the world's biggest douche bag. Way to completely shit on his life, George.

The sidewalk brought me to the harbor. A man was hunched over the railing either deep in thought or severely depressed. I approached him. As I got closer, he looked familiar. He had the same curly, honey brown hair as Jack and the same muscular build.

I leaned against the railing about a foot and a half away from him to keep some distance. What if it wasn't Jack? But it was. He turned his head to look at me.

"Small world, huh?" he asked, almost no emotion in his voice.

"Hmm, Gotham. Who'd have thunk?" I replied. "I just broke up with Bruce." I showed him my left hand, sans ring. "I did it for you."

An amused smile crept onto his face, stretching his scars up to his ears. "This has to be some kind of joke."

"Do you really think I'd waste my time on some stupid prank?"

"So you're completely serious?"

"It's not like a have a choice. You're always right behind me, no matter where I go."

He smiled, this time it was real. "One of my many charms."

I opened by purse and fished around inside. "Here," I said, handing him the picture of him and his family at Disney World, taken when he was just a fresh-faced teenager. "It's yours now."

"I told you I wanted you to keep it."

"No sense in me holding onto it if were, um, together."

"So you're finally giving in." His smile could melt my body into a puddle.

"There are conditions, though. This won't be easy at all and we'll have to work extra hard to make it work. But I'm willing to put in the extra work. Are you?"

He snaked his arm around my back and kissed my cheek. "Of course I am. If this goes far enough, we can even buy a house down in Louisiana. You know, get out of Gotham."

I grinned. "I think I'd like that." I kissed him on the lips, thinking of our future, our fresh start.

* * *

Well, there's my story. You're probably wondering, how will I have a normal relationship with Jack? Let me tell you that this won't be a normal courtship, not even close. But when you care about someone, you do everything in your power to make things work. I don't know what I'll tell my friends and family. Inevitably, they'll ask about Jack's scars. And I don't know if he will decide to slap on some make up and a purple suit and run around the city again. Both of those thoughts frighten me. But I can't know what the stars have planned. Whatever happened will happen, thanks to fate. Fate is what brought Jack and I together.

* * *

**That's the end of the story... hope you liked it! Now, I'm going to take an extended break from fanfiction, then I'll start my next story.**

**Once again, thanks for all your support! =D**


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